She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. “I’ll go,” she vowed to the night, “or I’ll die!” She made plans and estimated means and resources. He could not possibly lunge in the confined space, and so had nothing to do but back himself into the chapel as fast as he could. She remained standing stiffly, unable even to move. "The part was crooked," she explained. “Go to the far corner,” he said, “and sing the last verse of Les Petites.
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