Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips. The bliss had lasted one hundred and forty years, far more than an entire mortal lifetime. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. Lucy vomited onto the floor at the sight of her mother dying, the black spots expanding across her corpse. “Politics!” Ennison answered grimly. If he decided to watch television upstairs with his mother, she would probably retire before he did, but she was a light sleeper.
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