She wrote it down. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. I’m not ashamed—of the things I’m doing. He carried her into his bedroom as she unfastened the tiny white buttons of his shirt. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. He remained talking with her however.
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