My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. A little kindness would not bring the world tumbling about her ears. "There's the house," said Jack, pointing to a pretty cottage, the small wooden porch of which was covered with roses and creepers, with a little trim garden in front of it. You must remember, you've just begun to read; you haven't any comparisons.
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