John stared palely. You should go home today and get some rest. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. Moments, indeed! We like each other fresh and fresh. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown.
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