I pray you, Gérard, do not fail me. Michelle would arrive daily with a two to ten minute brief on her own dating status, her nightly dreams, grades, new family developments. Now Owen Wood had one fair child, Unlike her mother, meek and mild; Her love the draper strove to gain, But she repaid him with disdain. This morning he heard voices—McClintock's and the Wastrel's. You are my Sir Galahad, so faithful and true that it is a wonder you exist.
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