” “She invited me to dinner anyway. "Why? Because I love her! Because I loved her at the start, but was too big a fool to know it!" His own astonishment was quite equal to McClintock's. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. Love was joy, and joyous she was when alone. Gianfrancesco ran from the room, tearing at his hair. "No prize shall indushe me to enter dat horrid plashe again. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. “Dear John,” she whispered. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man.
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