Around her neck was a little gold chain. Sebastian administered bitter tonics to her, fluids she could not taste with her swollen tongue. Tight. "What was it?" He was insistent. “And, you know, you’re altering us all. \"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. The twins were a hard delivery, a C-Section. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. But no more of that.
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