Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. The door opened, and a slightly overweight pretty blonde, an older, wiser version of Michelle, came into view. Luckily I’m not. “No, I’m not a virgin. Well-balanced, sane, wasn’t I? You never heard anyone call me a madman? I’m pretty near being one now, and it’s her fault. “Isn’t the question more complicated than that?” said Ann Veronica. So, at least, thought one of two persons who were seated together in a small back-parlour of the house at Dollis Hill.
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