Twice his lips uttered the name of Florence. Was he regretting his friend? Having reached the last of that appalling series of crimes, was he imaginin... the several stages, each marked with a corpse? Was something like a conscience making itself felt deep down in that brute? Or was it not rather the sort of physical torpor that numbs the sated beast of prey, glutted with flesh, drunk with blood, a torpor that is almost voluptuousness?Nevertheless, he once more repeated Florence's name, and tears. I subtracted twenty percent that I planned to save or invest from that and came up with the total amount I’d have available to spend each month. From that, I subtracted what I estimated my groceries, utilities and insurance would be and arrived at a number that I could comfortably spend to outfit the house each month.I created a second spreadsheet with a list of all the things I wanted to buy, with a column for the estimated price. I was trying to fill that in when Stephie came into the room. More

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