" "So it is, child. She wondered what the problem was, why the buildup? She wanted to go to his apartment that evening but stayed herself. “The Widgetts,” she said. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. CHAPTER VIII. ” She said. ” He said flatly.
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