“Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain. She could not help devouring him a little with her eyes across the Burger King booth, handsome shoulders visibly solid underneath his ridiculous polo shirt, his eyes all sweetness and light. She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. It was hard to resist. For all that, Ah Cum was forced to admit that his charge did not look dissipated.
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