“Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. Then, after Capes had been through her work and had gone on, it came to her that the fabric of this life of hers was doomed to almost immediate collapse; that in a little while these studies would cease, and perhaps she would never set eyes on him again. You have been going out every morning, and coming home late—tired out—too tired to come down to dinner. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. "That's it!"—eagerly.
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