“Because I know for a fact that she was having sex with Gary Rothko during homecoming Freshman year and she let him pork her up the ass. “I made two fruit pies and now I have no one to eat them. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. The smell of gunpowder was strong in the room. Your maid has twenty minutes to pack your dressing case for one night, and you have the same time to change into a travelling dress. Well, my dear, it is time you stopped wallowing in your sorrows like a common wretch.
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