Mr. A sob was strangled in her throat. ” The girl sat up and looked at him with a curious twist at the corners of her mouth —humorous or pathetic, he could not tell which. “I don’t see quite what your game is, Vee, but I suppose you’ve got a game on somewhere. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. It’s not like we’re getting married. “Yeah,” Shari nodded enthusiastically.
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