Flush with cash, he hovered up cocaine for breakfast and Maker’s Mark for lunch, so jittery from dope and hung over from booze he seldom bothered to...eat. He had gained thirty pounds in prison. Horace refolded the slacks. ‘Was me, I’d keep ’em. You’ll lose some weight once you’re out. Give yourself something to shoot for . . . getting back into those pants.’ ‘I’m leavin’ the past behind. Keep ’em for yourself.’ Horace admired the slacks then looked sadly at Marty. ‘Aw, you know I can’t. I’ll. We met that morning, Miss Harcourt stood aside, bathed, perfumed and dressed in such finery as Mme Richards could find ready for a return to the bosom of her family or the alternate life in Mme Richards establishment for which Mme Richards would pay me thirty guineas.Harcourt whispered a last instruction to Simon as we stood back to back and as dawn broke we paced away, "Turn!" Mr Grey ordered, and around we went, there was no searing pain this time, just the hiss and bang of a shot twelve. More

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