Thank goodness you’ll understand. He smiled. ” “There’s green-fly,” admitted Ann Veronica. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. There’s no logic in these things.
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