’ With an unexpected flush of pleasure, he recalled the girl’s antics. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. We’re hedged about with discretions— and all this furniture—and successes! We are successful at last! Successful! But the mountains, dear! We won’t forget the mountains, dear, ever. Perhaps there were experiences she would never confide to any man. Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts. My boys are all Sandwich Island born.
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