And I listened to her without trying to come up with an excuse to leave.
She used to laugh so hard at something, she thought of on the toilet,
that she just about fell off the toilet seat.
Wasn't snowing out anymore, but every once in a while
you could hear a car not being able to get started.
All too easily.
She might have been the usual sort of landlady
smelling of washing-soda and backing-powder.
She was one of these very tall round-shouldered women, she was.
About six-four with lousy teeth.
She came over to me, and gave me these two playful
as hell slaps on both my cheeks.
I gave her the wrong idea perhaps.
She shouldn't be allowed to watch any and every program.
Fifty-three miles an hour in a forty mile-zone and attempted bribery.
Mary Springer married Jerry...
and everything smelled as if she had loads and loads of Vicks nose-drops.
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