“A glass slipped from the table,” he explained. But in a moment she believed she understood. He was not addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned “Damn!” The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated it. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. Stanley, and paused. ’ She threw a melting look at Roding. ” “It still needs to be tightened up, but.
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