The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. “I think we’ve exhausted this discussion,” she said. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. Fresh flowers of loveliness have budded, expanded, died. "Then I advise you to look sharply after him, Mr. P. She was silent, the ghost of a fading smile passed from her lips.
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