"I'll be their substitute. His hair had begun to gray, his belly had just begun to round. But Miss Miniver was highly unsatisfactory. “I don’t think she will,” she said. I thought you understood. The farmer had become obsessed with her and asked her to marry. Apparently he had projected beyond his table some hypnotic thought, for it had held him all through the dining hour. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. ” “Better say six,” Mr.
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