” John greeted him. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. . "The plot's out!" cried Jack. ‘I haven’t been so much entertained since I left the Army. She spied him sitting on his armless black couch, his feet splayed as he stared at his television blankly. Marthe has told me that the house comes to my mother, Ma—ry Re—men—ham.
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