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” “She invited me to dinner anyway. “Beats me. You're in luck to-night, widow. She studied her form in the full length mirror, assessed 69 her body as one would that of a prize calf, trying to see it through his eyes, through the eyes of desire. She had always had a wonderful ear for phrasing, even back in the days of the viol. “I love you. Jackson’s. Maggot. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse.
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