256 Lucy chose her words carefully. The blades on the top spun faster and faster. He got out of the car and lifted her from the convertible before she could open the door. “That’s suicidal bullshit, Lucy. The confirmed drunkard's mouth at length sets itself peculiarly; it becomes the mark by which thoughtful men know him. There are human limitations, and no doubt you reached yours. She was inclined to think that perhaps for a girl the converse of his method was the case; an older man, a man beyond the range of anything “nonsensical,” was, perhaps, the most interesting sort of friend one could meet.
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