I do not admit the truth of a word which you have said. He was staring at her, openly gaping. The bleach had ruined it, with yellow-orange streaks invading the frizzy white that cascaded in wavy tendrils coated with greasy hairspray. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. Stanley’s acquaintance in the train and shown him one or two trifling civilities. “Do not force me to take you seriously,” she continued. Her eyes flashed.
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