"I took over this joint soon as we heard the Champ surrendered. Mike has thrown in the towel. The war's over, so drink hearty. And there are steaks on the fire."
"Don't drink too hearty." Frank swept her pliant body into his arms, thankful that it, at least, was familiar. "I don't want to waste a minute hunting up that plastic surgeon so he can give you back that pug nose and those freckles."