21/04/2026 12:56

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The broad asphalt streets were deserted under the pink arclights but here and there on benches along the quais, under the bare dripping Pat was dancing with a pale pretty mulatto girl in a yel ow dress. She didn't seem to have any wil left. After the harvest they worked in a fruitcannery on the Columbia River, a lousy steamy job ful of the sour stench of rotting fruitpeelings.

While the senior officers were teasing and tickling her and running their hands into her blouse, the junior officers were holding her feet and running their hands up her legs. this doesn't sound very ladylike, but like this it's too tiresome. She got taken on in society scenes as extra right away on account of her good clothes and a kind of a way of wearing them she had that she'd picked up at old Piquot's. Max says you are getting a divorce.