She pulled at his tee shirt again, wishing to feel his naked chest upon hers. It hardly served his interests. "Confusion!" cried he; "there is another boat in our wake. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. It was Missy and Michelle in her grandmother's old Buick. Its cavernous expanses equaled the upstairs of the house. He went on with his song, accompanying it with the most ridiculous grimaces: "When years were gone by, she began to rue Her love for the gentleman, (meaning you!) 'I slighted the journeyman fond,' quoth she, 'But where is my gallant of high degree? Where! where! Oh! where is my gallant of high degree?' Ho! ho! ho!" "What are you doing here!" demanded Thames.
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