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I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. It was she who had come out from the flat only a few minutes before. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. I was bawling so hard that the Nurse took pity on me and slipped me two Children’s Tylenol. But the sheer immensity of the tract! James Boyle was certainly up against it, hard. To lose was death, quickly and mercilessly delivered. We must always move on. Most of them didn’t, anyhow.
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