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Dinner Party The housekeeper, a blonde ex-hippie, seemed a silent Martha in the kitchen, working wonders with pans and paring knife. One tooth was missing in her ready smile. After the dishes she brought rum and coke to the living room and sat on the sofa, a Mary caught up in Jesus, calling out his name, praying aloud, giving sermons to anyone who listened: "I've been on every trip, drugs, living in groups, living alone, chanting and meditation, and believe me, Jesus is the ultimate!" After the third glass, she picked out the biggest scoffer, the ex-Catholic ex-con man turned honest mechanic, and moved toward him on the sofa, skirt sliding up to her hips, her voice hoarse in a triple ecstasy of witness, and a prayerful man, watching, would've said, "Lord, look to your handmaiden, she drifts toward something short of ultimate, and I can hear the ice turn in her drink." BERT ALMON ROCKY MOUNTAIN REVIEW203 ...

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