‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. It was the only time she had ever hit him, punched him right in the stomach like one of his favorite Three Stooges episodes. It was she who felt guilty as he showed her their bedroom, smelling her perfume, ingesting their psychic leftovers. " Thames was about to reply, but a glance from Wood checked him. Even the stars were strangers.
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