She knew it. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. He called a waiter. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. "One motive alone shall induce me to go on with you," said Jack. And many of these deaths could be avoided if it were not for superstition.
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