She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. Mrs. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. ” Annabel gave a little gasp. "You think our sex has no feeling, I suppose, Sir," cried Mrs.
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