With her biggest marble, a Bumboozer, poised like a bomb between her thumb and forefinger, she closed one eye and took a steadying breath.

For surely in that time were those possessed Of Demons — making men's hearts a foul nest For other thoughts besides the sexly crime. Perchance, tho' seven Demons in her breast Such passions varied that gave her no rest Like Envy, Hate and Malice, which her soul had nursed Until her mind—desires and life accursed. I have to think that Mary surely pure Of sexly passion—in that way demure— But violent otherwise in fits of spite.

a decently high salary

About Rebecca and Jos he did not care a fig.