216 “Please, get dressed. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. Wood strained his eyes to catch a glimpse of the flying skiff. With the extra seventy-five pounds she had put after birthing her final son, Steven, her knees weren’t in good shape to be running up and down stairs all day. A vague desire to justify himself ruffled her father. They have rescued the child.
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