We can’t be lovers in the ordinary sense, but we can be great and intimate friends. \" 49 She greeted him as he scanned her from head to toe, absorbing the lines of her figure as he was doing systematically with every other female in the parking lot. He stalked her, he stared at her, he craved her, he sidled slinking and propitiatory and yet relentlessly toward her, until at last she awoke from the suffocating nightmare nearness of his approach, and lay awake in fear and horror listening to the unaccustomed sounds of the hotel. I had to go at a moment’s notice. She wanted air—and the distraction of having moving and changing things about her. 'Mrs.
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