I don’t believe in the faults. I like you very much, I haven’t known you enough to love you, no matter how worthy you are of love. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. There has never been a white woman at McClintock's. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. She had other boyfriends and hung out at Foster’s only bar most of the time. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement. ’ ‘Pray don’t,’ begged Mrs Sindlesham, one eye on the general’s embattled features. Only an undermaid I was then. " "Perhaps not," replied Jack, to whom an idea had suddenly occurred.
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