"Can you not love him?" "Love him!" echoed the widow. "Oh God! how fearfully my father is avenged!" "True," replied Jack, sternly; "but we have our uncle to avenge. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. Sheppard. She had all the fascination of being absolutely perplexing in this respect.
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