When she closed the door, Chollie was standing at her side. “Pig to man in a single hour,” he said. “You’re a reverse Circe.” She laughed silently; he’d pronounced it Chir-chee, as if Circe had been a modern Italian. “Oh, you dirty autodidact,” she said. “It’s pronounced Ser-see.” He looked wounded, but shrugged and said, “I never thought I’d say it, but you’re good for him. Well, hell!” he said, now in a vicious Florida accent. “Empty-head friendless blond model gold digger actually turning out good. Who’d a thunk? At first, I done figgered you was going to take the money and run. But no.
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