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Show page 101 "They rented a boat." "Oh." Cora reached to a basket at her feet for another piece of apparel. "They'll go to the island," Miles said. "They think my brother skinned them out of some money and hid it there. They'll look at all the-pine trees, and all the pine needles on the ground, and every inch of ground will look the same, and they'll come back here." "You're not going out, Miles? Please, forget them." Cora's voice was pleading. Miles stepped away from his wife, out of the house, and into a frame garage. He seated himself crosslegged before an old trunk and started digging out faded newspapers. He was surrounded by the newspapers when Cora came out with a frosted glass and a bottle of beer for him. "You want to put all this in the incinerator?" He nodded at the papers. Cora kneeled and he loaded her and when she was gone he reached under his leg for a small clipping he had saved from one of the papers. He slipped the clipping inside the cellophane of his pack of cigarettes and reached for his beer. "I won't see them." He said at last. "But after they go away I will show Cora this clipping." He smoked several of the packaged cigarettes and thought of his wife and his revenge, and tried to determine what exactly revenge was. He came to the conclusion that he might not show Cora the clipping, after all. He came from the garage and headed toward the house. Cora stood near the house, watering the trumpet creeper. "Give me |