“It will spoil your life. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. Several people were passed out on the sectional sofa, and muffled noises emanated from other rooms indicating that the party’s embers were still smoldering, but John was nowhere to be seen. He declined to come in. "Stop!" groaned Blueskin. The truth was impossible, indecent. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening.
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