He yelled to her, asking her if she wished to have a drink with him, which she refused. “I’ll run, too,” she volunteered. She had worried in fear that the excitement would be too much for him. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. ‘Oh, have you? Well, in that case, I love your little booted feet, and your ridiculously long eyelashes, and—’ THANK YOU! Thank you so much for downloading and reading my book. “Or I know another one who wears cologne. Auntie has taken the nails out of my palms, but the scars will always be there.
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