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" The Wastrel laughed. “Yeah,” Shari nodded enthusiastically. " "Where—where?" cried Thames. "So I will," rejoined Shotbolt; "so I will. “It isn’t only the dance,” she said. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man.
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