“I am exceedingly sorry,” he said. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. She turned her head away sharply. She thought of Capes. Manning leaned forward on the table, talking discursively on the probable brilliance of their married life. ‘I escape from a fate entirely misérable, you understand. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse.
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