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Her husband was drinking in the tavern with the other guests. He asked me out two days ago and I thought, hell, why not?” Michelle answered. For a time he heard no more, and stared with stony eyes at a Book-War proclamation in leaded type that filled half a column of the Times that day. “Please play something for us,” Carol asked, her eyes aglow. He had never liked to be hugged, but she wondered if his corporeal needs would be made apparent by human touch. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said.
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