Filling her compact & delicious body

    with chicken páprika， she glanced at me

    twice.

    Fainting with interest， I hungered back

    and only the fact of her husband & four other people

    kept me from springing on her

    or falling at her little feet and crying

    'You are the hottest one for years of night

    Henry's dazed eyes

    have enjoyed， Brilliance.' I advanced upon

    （despairing） my spumoni.——Sir Bones： is stuffed，

    de world， wif feeding girls.

    ——Black hair， complexion Latin， jewelled eyes

    downcast . . . The slob beside her     feasts . . . What wonders is

    she sitting on， over there？

    The restaurant buzzes.  She might as well be on Mars.

    Where did it all go wrong？ There ought to be a law against Henry.

    ——Mr. Bones： there is.