Anna raised her eyebrows at the sight of him. Unless there was some real metal in the young fool, some hidden strength with which to breast the current, Ruth would become a millstone around his neck and soon he would become to her an object of pity and contempt. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. But Jack and his companion were already gone. We'll lather him with mud, shave him with a rusty razor, and drench him with aqua pompaginis.
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