And then she brought up the unfortunate expression I had used when talking to her on the telephone: “Did you say that in the war you were ‘combing pussy out of your hair’?” I said I was sorry I’d said it, and I was. “I never heard that expression before,” she said. “I had to guess what it meant.” “Just forget I said it,” I said. “You want to know what my guess was? I guessed that wherever you went there were women who would do anything for food or protection for themselves and the children and the old people, since the young men were dead or gone away,” she said. “How close was I?” “Oh my, oh
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