"Your son," answered the boy. The jealous burn at his eyes subsided and his finger came up. 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. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain. They seed beyond all reason.
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