road.” * * * The slow, inching journey to the crematorium passed in complete silence. I could have challenged Edward there and then about the ghastly wreath, but I was determined to maintain the decorum of the occasion. An argument in the back of the funeral car would be unseemly. Edward, who took the view that the seat belt laws didn’t apply to him, was leaning forward, picking at the skin around his fingernails. I sat back on the cold leather seat and observed the parade of high-summer city life. When I was a child, I remember people stopping what they were doing and bowing their heads as a
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