Sentence The Ninetyninth
Jubbly Johanssen deftly extricated herself from Kenny Cramond's arms, legs and bed and crept to the door where she accepted a telegram from a sweet girl in uniform, whose eyes had widened on seeing Jubbly's sumptuous body; Jubbly gave the pretty girl a tip and a note with her phone number - though married, a mother, and presently entangled with Cramond, she was no Quisling - her true desires did not encompass men, but she feigned belief in their weasel words, promises of loyalty and devotion behind which - too white livered to admit their indiscretions - they shagged their secretaries or hotel whores; quietly she opened the envelope, almost too scared to learn how her absence had affected the custody hearing over her beloved daughter, but forced herself to read the words.