Fast and Loose 415 XXIII. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. She had worn a long skirt that morning, and a roomier sweater that was slightly easier to handle than Shari’s low cut numbers. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. “No, I’m fine.
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