You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. . The ring's yours, and you're mine. Her eyes flashed. "You want him?" "Please!" said Ruth. Both had lived rather quietly until a scandal had opened up a can of worms for the son, allegations of child abduction, reported sightings of a white van around nearby elementary schools. Having no more patience, I drew you aside to give you a compliment on your radiant beauty.
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