I didn't mind what she called me, what anybody called me. But this was the room i had to live in, it was all i had in the way of a home. In it was everything that was mine, that had any association for me, any past, anything that took the place of a family. Not much ; a few books, pictures, radio, chessmen, old letters. Stuff like that. Nothing. Such as they were. They had all my memories.
The Big Sleep
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