The candles—for McClintock never used oil in his dining room—were burning low in the sconces. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. “I’d give anything to kiss your neck. The gentlemen are so particular now, and a good thing too, I say. "You shall not go, adorable girl," cried Kneebone, catching her in his arms, "till you have answered me.
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