” She looked down on him thoughtfully, and he let his admiration of her free young poise show in his face. I don’t want to bother you, of course. A week later the manuscript was polished and typewritten, ready for the test. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. The couple reappeared from behind the curtains, both visibly shaken. But none ever puts his foot on this boat. She hated living like that. She found pieces of it on the blacktop near the green dumpster, amazingly small pieces considering the fabric’s original heft.
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