” Sir John did not hesitate any longer. “I was really interested in his stuff. And probably the girl would wear herself out, too. “I wonder,” he said, “how you would like to be made love to—boldly or timorously or sentimentally. E. Lucy loved orchestras, the bittersweet tinge of rosin dust that hung in the air, the way that the sun shone through filthy windows illuminating the marimbas with a storybook light.
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