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Unformatted text preview: , darlin'?" "The baby. I can't make them with men, only with Father." "Ho, ho, honey! Keep that secret to yourself." She didn't know what he meant. But he was happy. He was gentle. He thought she was beautiful. He didn't have to say so. She saw it in his eyes. Music or no music, she saw his adoring eyes. And he loved the smell of her. It made him feel young. He was pulling her up to her feet. The ice cream rolled on the floor. It felt good to be in his arms, swaying back and forth and back and forth. Like a bell swinging, calling all the people down into the glen. Hear the bell, that's the Devil's Knell? Hear the bell? He held her close, and she felt her breasts ache against his chest. Strange, prickly feeling. "Oh, you've made milk in me," she whispered. She backed up, trying to clear her head of the music. "Look at it." She reached in her shirt, tearing loose the buttons, and pinched her own nipple. Droplets of thin milk. It would not do her any good to drink her 465 ow...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10