“JILL GRABBED a negligee, hurried into the living room. “Come in, dear. We were bathing; he’ll be right out. I’ll get you a drink—then you’ll have your second drink in the tub. Loads of hot water.” “I had a shower after I put Honey Bun to bed, but—yes, I’d love a tub bath. But, Jill baby, I didn’t come here to borrow your tub; I came because I’m heartsick that you kids are leaving.” “We won’t lose track of you.” Jill got busy with glasses. “Tim was right. Mike and I need to slick up our act.” “Y...our act is okay. Needs some laughs, maybe, but—Hi, Smitty.” She offered him a gloved hand. Away from the lot Mrs. Paiwonski always wore gloves, high-necked dresses, and stockings. She looked like (and was) a middle-aged, respectable widow who had kept her figure trim. “I was telling Jill,” she went on, “that you’ve got a good act.” Mike smiled. “Pat, don’t kid us. It stinks.” “No, it doesn’t dearie. Oh, it could use some zing. A few jokes.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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