"'Tis a cruel thing you've done, lad. ‘You do not dare look in my clothes. He wrote poems to her beauty that he recited from a seemingly infinite memory. She used to lock Jordan and Josiah in the closet when they were toddlers. Perhaps I've been mad all these years; I don't know. On the day he carried the manuscript to Copeley's he brought back a packet of letters, magazines, and newspapers. His tongue was hot.
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