” “This,” Anna declared, as she sipped her wine and looked around her, “reminds me more of Paris than any place I have yet seen. . She held out both her hands. If she could not marry him, she would not marry any one. " "And what might that be?" "Will McClintock take us both?" "You took that chance. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella.
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