He pretended to be unaware of the mishap. He never cries nor frets, as children generally do, but lies at my bosom, or on my knee, as quiet and as gentle as you see him now. Imbecile. Oh, God!” Rhea sniffed the air through two gaping nostrils that had eroded through her onion skin flesh. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence.
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