Cocking the gun. She uncrossed her legs and lowered herself, carefully and slowly, until she lay supine. If you’ll forgive my saying that, and implying what goes with it. It’s the rarest luck, the wildest, most impossible accident. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think. We thought of starting in half an hour’s time, and trying for a theatre somewhere on the way. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter.
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