3.11.11

Things like that.

Things like that.
Gladys Harmer nodded silently. Jack was a careful man: a bit finicky even, over some things. He always pulled out all the electric plugs at night; he turned the water off when they went on holiday; he climbed a ladder the correct way, hand over hand gripping the rungs, not the sides in case a foot slipped; things like that; things her own more carefree family had never worried about. Uncle Charlie had always found Jack's ways amusing, but then Uncle Charlie usually found something comical in everything. All the same, she could see the sense in Jack's caution where rats were concerned.









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