It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. Then, mysteriously, he no longer smelled or tasted it. I was pretty strong for a four-year old! She was so mad that she spanked me with a belt until my butt was raw and bleeding. ‘I dropped the lantern,’ Jack’s muffled voice told her. Considering his convictions he felt that his remark was a generous one. A door slammed.
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