You think more of Mr Eddington her father said than almost anything else and she knew she did but her father drew the line at her having him in her bed and her mother wasn’t so keen either I don’t want cat’s hairs on the pillowcases or on those sheets or blankets and so Mr Eddington had to stay out of her bed and be content to sit by the window or on the window ledge or on the small carpet by the chest of drawers and don’t feed the darn cat at the table her father said it isn’t polite to have cat’s spittle

on your hands while eating and so she sat on the chair with one foot on the stool in that I don’t give a damn pose and Mr Eddington sat himself comfortably by the stool and she sang him one of those Rock and Roll songs she liked or recited an Ezra Pound poem which her father disliked or she put her hands behind her head and whistled part of an Elvis Presley song which her mother said wasn’t ladylike at all and to sit like that her father said with your leg up with underclothes showing is just not on at all

now sit like a lady would sit he said and there were times Jezebel thought she wished them both dead so long as Mr Eddington was there she just didn’t care.

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