Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict. "May I be cursed," muttered Sheppard, as he slunk away with (as the woollendraper pleasantly observed) 'a couple of boxes in charge,' "if ever I try to be honest again!" "Take a little toasted cheese with the swig, Mr. Sewn on that button yet?" "I've been afraid to take the coat from under the pillow. The walls of the room were lined with shelves, on which were glass jars, retorts, countless bottles and many appliances of surgical science. She and Courtlaw drove homewards together.
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