Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. He was in love with her! She tried to grasp all the welter of values in the situation simultaneously, and draw some conclusion from their disorder. Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. Oh, what’s his name? It’s on the tip of my tongue. It was a gray day in the spring of 1910.
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