ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. I hoped for a family like the Becks and I waded through the system until I got them, so maybe life isn’t so damn hopeless after all. She was always so fertile that she could even impregnate herself using the semen from a corpse, which she did, as you found out. The loneliness of the place somewhat depressed her. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised.
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