She had slept badly at first in a long chair next to the fire waiting for him to return, but caught on after that. ‘For my money, you’ll not get much out of old Jarvis either. She drank her glass of wine, however, and clanked glasses good-naturedly with Mr. Fancy, as they say hereabouts!" What had aroused this open-air monologue was a small tin sign in a window. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict.
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