from Brown Corpus
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We both had hangovers.
Eileen declared she couldn't lift her head from the pillow.
She lay under the covers making jabbing motions with her forefinger telling me where to look for the coffeepot.
I was stumbling in my undershirt trying to find my way around her damn kitchenette when I smelt that sickish sweet hairtonic smell.
There was somebody else in the apartment.

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