" He started to pick up a sheet of manuscript, but she pushed him from the table toward the doorway; and he staggered out of the bungalow, suddenly stretched his arms, and broke into a trot. \"Of course it is okay. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Then I threw a bucket of dirty water on his face and said, ‘Listen, asshole, let’s get one thing straight. She did not remember how many seasons it took before she relented, how much time before she decided to toy with his affections. But perhaps if people didn’t like clear, bright, healthy eyes—which is biologically understandable—they couldn’t like precious stones. Master, your humble servant.
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