She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter. My late husband, I mean. " "Couldn't … couldn't I go with you this afternoon?" "Too hot. While the cloth was laid, the host and Thames descended to the cellar, whence they returned, laden with a number of flasks of the same form, and apparently destined to the same use as those depicted in Hogarth's delectable print—the Modern Midnight Conversation. Some of them are now buried at the bottom of the Thames. She was quite oblivious to the sensation she had created. But she was not to be tempted.
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