Shall We Forgive Her?
A dainty little blonde miss of twenty-two stepped into a phone booth. She drew forth from a small trunk (called a vanity case) a nickel. She placed the nickel in the slot with the softest, white and well kept hands that anyone has seen. She took up the receiver and with a soft sweet voice of a great singer spoke the number to the operator. She waited and waited and waited and waited, first on one foot and then on the other. She had waited an awful long time. All of a sudden she banged the receiver down and hissed between her lovely, pearly teeth, a well sounded “Damn it.”
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The fellow who asks a girl for a kiss doesn’t stand half a chance with the live wire who kisses a girl first and then asks her how she likes it.
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