Fascination. He moaned. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. "This is our last transaction together. “Do you think he’s still around?” She paused thoughtfully. She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. “So it’s like you’re a dead end?” He asked innocently. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one.
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