With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. I can't spare you at present. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic. “Not at all. He disappeared after getting my foster sister Traci pregnant. The Mohocks. The recollection of all her unhappiness, the loveless years, the unending loneliness, the injustice of it, rolled up to her lips in verbal lava.
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