‘Who’d believe me? And I’d have to tell my part in it all, too. ’ He shifted unguardedly, and hissed a breath, wincing. “Well, I don’t feel like standing it. ‘You are jealous!’ ‘Yes,’ he agreed simply. One side of the face was white with foamy lather and the other ruddy-cheeked and blue-jawed. If you were a poet in need of rhymes, you had only to turn to a certain page.
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