He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. “Hotel Ritz,” he said mechanically to the coachman. “Want to see my fangs?” She asked. Diane Vorsack tried to disguise the fact that she was livid, her daughter’s buffoonery having driven off the prestigious dinner guests before the after-dinner drinks could be served. Amiable and good-looking. ‘And you, my girl, if you’d been born at all, would have been just what you think you are. The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes.
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