I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. She was very pretty. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. There is a railroad. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest. “He just wants to get laid, you know. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. Stir a foot, and I strike.
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