They chatted pleasantly as he drove around the neighborhood for a half an hour, then stopped by the Diedermayer house. He grew even harder. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order. I do not wish to return to Paris. His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness.
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