It wasn't worth while to invest imaginatively a man with evil projects simply because he was physically ugly. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. They WERE weird. The sun was setting when she carried the metal garbage can to the curb with their remains in it, where they sat underneath the stale chocolate cake that Sheila had thrown away and a pile of mildewy lettuce. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. “Let’s hope your successor is worthy of you.
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