The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. “He is not—I don’t like him. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. “Good-looking rascal she met at Worthing. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me.
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