She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. It’s to do with adolescence. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. ’ She stopped, for Jack was feebly laughing.
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