Peabody’s voice held quiet—no exclamation point. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s mostly worn off. I mean, I feel pretty energetic, but the whoopee’s about gone. I’m so sorry, Dallas.” “Forget it.” “No, seriously. The last thing you needed was me flying around on a mental trapeze. I’m embarrassed, but even more just sorry.” “Fine. If you’re so sorry, get rid of that stupid lip dye.” “What lip dye?” Peabody asked as they walked up to the car. “The one on your lips.”
