\" Michelle was becoming upset, and her voice took on a tone of sarcasm. ‘Ain’t enough as my bed is took, my sheets all bloodied, and my gin took for to waste on that fellow’s wound. The other was helping Trodger with his operation upstairs. And in reality even that magic garden-close resolves itself into a villa at Morningside Park and my father being more and more cross and overbearing at meals—and a general feeling of insecurity and futility.
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