Lenore: You’re rich; it makes you arrogant.
Jelly: You’re beautiful, what does that make you? Maybe wealth is as much a product of luck and genetics as your gorgeous eyes and sensational legs, or maybe it’s all part of some vast, nebulous grand design. Who cares? Neither option puts me in debt to anybody else’s morals. If some fool trips over
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Lenore: And once we got past the explosions, I'd be happy to talk shoes.
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