Don’t you just love these long rainy afternoons in New Orleans when an hour isn’t just an hour—but a whole little piece of eternity dropped into your hands—and who knows what to do with it?
It isn’t enough to be soft. You’ve got to be soft and attractive. And I—I’m fading now! I don’t know how much longer I can turn the trick.
Now run along, now, quickly! It would be nice to keep you, but I’ve got to be good—and keep my hands off children.
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