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And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. She rode him gently. It shall never be said that I raised my arm willingly against a woman. She knew his appetite from many a homemade dinner and knew also that he had taken Bitch Vorsack’s comments to heart.
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