From the pen of Robert Leslie Bellem, one of the most entertainingly bad writers ever:
"A girl clerk came toward me. She was young, she had tawny hair, and she owned a carload of oomph. She wore a tailored skirt that outlined her nice, slender hips; and her mannish silk blouse disclosed the outlines of tender young whatchallems, firm and solid. She smiled at me, lifted an eyebrow."
[Murder's Messenger]
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