ometimes she knows me so well it gets to be depressing
he thought. Now she glanced back.
'You are still thinking about itthen.'
'I'm not'
he saidexasperated. 'Can't a man lose three pounds in peace? You keep saying you'd like me a little . . .'
thinner
'. . . a little less beefy.' Now she had gotten him thinking about the Gypsy again. Dammit,
authentic gold ugg boots! The Gypsy's eaten nose and the scaly feel of that one
finger sliding along his cheek in the moment before he had reacted and jerked away the way you would jerk away from a spider or from a clittering
bundle of beetles fuming in a knot under a rotted log.
She brought him the bacon and kissed his temple. 'I'm sorry. You go right ahead and lose some weight. But if you don'tremember what Mr Rogers
says -'
I like you just the way you are' they finished in unison.
He prodded at the overturned Journal by the lazy Susanbut that was just too depressing. He got upwent outsideand found the New York Times
in the flowerbed. The kid always threw it in the flowerbednever had his numbers right at the end of the weekcould never remember Bill's last
name. Billy had wondered on more than one occasion if it was possible for a twelve-year-old kid to become a victim ofyilai：
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