"How do you know that?" rejoined Jack. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. My Mom’s stomach has a lot of bad scars that make it look all ropy and weird. I think it inadvisable—I don’t want an intimacy to spring up between you and a man of that type. She looked in the rear-view mirror. True, on board the ships she had watched young men from afar, but only with that normal curiosity which is aroused in the presence of any new species. She turned her eyes to him again, and saw her late friend and pleasant and trusted companion, who had seen fit suddenly to change into a lover, babbling interesting inacceptable things. Her small round breasts were vulnerable under her mostly nonfunctional Kmart bikini bra. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed.
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