The same old lines and verses, over and over, until there had come times when shrieking would have relieved her. ‘That’s why I’m asking. She saw his eyes glaze over. You have never known what it is to want food, raiment, shelter. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. Nor is Theresa, or even Thérèse.
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