He munched his popcorn steadily, periodically offering it to her, but not his Coke, as that would be too bold, a saliva exchange. “Wonderful man!” said Ann Veronica, reassured, and stroking his cheek with her finger. When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. She had almost chosen to prostitute herself rather than live in that animal state once, but had found a warm cave in Kentucky just as situations had grown truly desperate. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. I won't give him a chance.
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