But whether unripe years did want conceit, / Or he refused to take her figured proffer, / The tender nibbler would not touch the bait, / But smile and jest at every gentle offer:
We are curious to see how this all shakes out.
Death I'll meet, my soul no terrors daunting, / Take the life for which thy heart is panting, / Spare not thou, though he spare, his life granting, / Or let death end us both at a blow.
For the most part, Hefner's female companions all adhered to the same mold: twentysomething, bosomy and blonde. Well, I guess I know what I like, he once said when asked about his preferences.
Well, I guess I know what I like,
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