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Chapter Nine Milking I woke up with a start, sweating. I felt a pair of hands around my shoulder. “Hey, John!” Angie whispered softly. “Are you OK? You were talking in your sleep!” “Jesus!” I said, wiping my face. “I don’t know what the hell I was dreaming about, but it scared the crap out of me!” “I couldn’t make out anything you were saying – you were just muttering to yourself.” “Phew!” I said, slipping out of bed. “God, I’m drenched. Is it OK if I grab a shower?” “Go ahead,” she said, still sounding worried. “I’m just going to pop out onto the balcony.” “Oh, not for a cigarette!” I groaned. “Angie, you’ve been doing so well!” “Just one! It’s this thing with you and the girls!” she said, angrily. “I’m all wound up, and I always feel like one in the morning anyway!” I moved tow