He drove her home that night, kissing her again and again at stoplights. He refused to believe that Anna was not ‘Alcide. The Old Mint III. She could tell that he was leering at her. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all. The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour.
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