After all, the Wastrel was in luck: he was alone. “I do not suppose he will be home till late. ’ Too late he saw his error. I’m not a lovesick boy. ’ ‘Indeed, I’m beginning to think so,’ he said ruefully. "Is your person in danger?" "Not from my creditors," replied Wood, significantly. Vorsack would staunchly disapprove of his attire, said nothing anyway. Teenage boys never change, she thought to herself. She mentioned, with familiar respect, Christ and Buddha and Shelley and Nietzsche and Plato. ’ ‘How shocking.
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