He himself, middle-aged, steeped in traditions of the City and moneymaking, very ill-skilled in all the lighter graces of life, as he himself well knew, could yet come to her invested with something of the halo of romance by the almost magical powers of an unlimited banking account. There were always parrots and parrakeets screaming in the fruit groves. There was a Greyhound bus that she was overdue to ride. The blinds were all drawn, the sunlight kept out, one could not tell what colors these gray swathings hid. I snatched it up, pointed it blindly at him, and fired. “Your teeth are chattering! I’ll make you some hot chocolate!” Cathy cried. “I’m a ghoul! So you can become a ghoul? You should settle down, John, get married, have children. I don't know what you have done; I don't want to know now.
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