That is what my mother used to call me. She drank and drank until his body was a lifeless husk, as light as a mannequin, virtually hollow of all but the fluid in his bones. He waved an arm and spoke with a peculiar resonance. ’ ‘But it was not your fault,’ protested Gosse, shocked. Hugging him in the beautiful dress in front of the teenagers was strangely soothing to her. “Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. That window there….
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