137 The living conditions of her kills were often so sordid that she would spend hours washing them off of her, and August brought her to the Greene River once again, scrubbing the stink from her hair with Ivory Liquid Dishwashing Detergent. ‘Very well, then. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. "Why, so it is," she said, in mock astonishment.
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