Lisbeth Corbin:
[Talking on the phone to a drunk Steve]
Marry you? If you were here now and could stand up, I might. I said, I might.
Steve:
I'll be there tomorrow. Sober as a judge.
Lisbeth Corbin:
Oh. And try to take me back to Boston? Pack me in mothballs? So you could come to New York with a bucket of red paint?
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05/03/2025 alle ore 07:14
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