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Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. " "Ha! hussy, dare you threaten?" cried Wild; but, checking himself, he turned to Ireton and asked, "How long have the women been gone?" "Scarcely five minutes," replied the latter. Honestly, I never did. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. Too close, he reasoned, for safety. ” “An appetite like yours,” he said resignedly, “is fatal to all sentiment. Her head was downcast as she studied the museum-like exhibits of various dusts on the resilient tile flooring.
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