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Show Jeffries, Section 3, Page 22 "Well?" February insisted. "Expert? Now isn't she--" "That's an Earth Angel," Dorian Clayton said. "That one is just this side of literally. . .stunning. . ." "So there's no reason to get all--" February began, green-eyed and jealous, and turning on the model, "Sure she's big-time, but what if--" and here how odd, Dorian would recall, in terms of a later tragic event with this Daisy, as if there were some magnetism or synchronicity between the girls, how queer that February would remember a little anthropology he'd favored her with, and put it just that way: "What if," she began, "feminine beauty were measured, the way you told me about that tribe in Africa, a 'beauty base,' wasn't it, judging a girl's beauty in terms of the shape of, the perfection of her genital organs, then wouldn't the smart money be on February. . .?" "Shhh," he said, "I'm pair-bonding." "Now what does that mean? Pair-bonding-Oh Dorian is that some kind of a chemical thing?" The horseplayer has available to himself a modest amount of national news in his copy of The Morning Telegraph Thus Dorian Clayton was able to note that the monarch of the small nation of Irate was in south Florida. In pursuit of a racing pigeon. And now up the aisles into Holmes, to the sound of tambour and timbrel, with a motion of saffron and myrhh, |