as the two of you were away canoodling with your latin men and apparently not vampiric replacement-asian-girl-from-Middlebury, (!) twang and I enjoyed a lovely night and dessert at La Burdick's, which sounds more like a purveyor of fine lingerie than of ridiculously rich chocolate. The observant will note a decapitated dark chocolate mouse. Only its tail was left upon the table as we scurried back to Wellesley before the clock struck 1[1]
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