She had never expected John capable of saying such things, of thinking such macabre ideas. She aimed directly at Rhea’s head. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. ’ ‘Oh, she’ll be safe enough, Gerald. I said I knew he disliked and distrusted you and your work—that you shared all Russell’s opinions: he hates Russell beyond measure—and that we couldn’t possibly face a conventional marriage. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter.
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