Michelle’s eyes widened. “You can count upon me, Nigel,” she said. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. Hold your hand for a moment. Traci was the most grateful, because he stopped his sexual advances. “I don’t see, Mollie,” he remarked, taking a cigar from the box on the table as his sister and daughter rose, “why you and Vee shouldn’t discuss this little affair —whatever it is—without bothering me.
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