My son wanted to marry a woman of thirty in a tobacconist’s shop. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. They crossed the Park to the westward, and then turned back and walked round the circle about the Royal Botanical Gardens and then southwardly toward Waterloo. She wanted his attention, but so did everyone else. CHAPTER IV. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend.
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