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... and you can do without her now.
I can do without my missing foot, too. But I don't like not having both
feet and I'll never get used to the loss. Sure, you can do without Gwen; you
won't die without her-but admit it, stupid: In the past thirty years you've been
happy just this brief time, the hours since Gwen moved in and married you. Hours
loaded with danger and blatant injustice and fighting and hardship, and it all
mattered not a whit; you've been bubbling over with happiness simply because she
was at your side.
And now you've sent her away.
Put on your stupid hat. Fasten it with rivets; you'll never need to take it
off again.
But I was right!
So? What has being "right" got to do with staying married?
I must have slept (I was mortal tired), as I remember things that did not
happen, nightmares-e.g., Gwen had been raped and killed in Bottom Alley. But
rape is as scarce in Luna City as it is commonplace in San Francisco. Over
eighty years since the last one and the groundhog who committed it didn't last
long enough to be eliminated; the men who responded to her screams tore him to
pieces.
Later it was learned that she had screamed because he hadn't paid her. This
made no difference. To a Loonie a hooker is just as sacred in her person as is
the Virgin Mary. I am a Loonie only by adoption but I agree deep in my heart.
The only proper punishment for rape is death, forthwith, no appeal
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