“Yeah, doll,” he said. “No, sorry, that’s just an expression we old flyboys use. . . . Well, sure, I’d like to be a doll too. . . . Oh, no ma’am. I can’t see any way. Well, now, I hate to have you think less of me, but the truth is if I could be manipulated by the poutin’ of a spoiled pretty little girl, I wouldn’t be lookin’ back on two divorces now, would I? . . . You can beg and cry for someone else, honey, ’cause I sure ain’t gonna be responsible for you overseas not forty-eight hours after you miscarried. . . . Now I’m awful sorry for you, and, like everybody else in your life, I got sort
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