Am I mistaken? Is your heart mine?" "It is—it is; and has ever been," replied Winifred, falling upon his neck. I must have been very wound up. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. Jonathan nodded assent. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Couldn’t fit it inside, but the horse’s blanket lay over it, and, like I said, as long as no one rides him and don’t remove the blanket, I think it’ll stay hid. I wanted to, that day in the Zoo.
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