I've told you about him; and you wrote a shrewd yarn on the subject. I admit it. He did not have to. "Good night, Master. ‘Ah, there is the little menace itself,’ he drawled, recovering some of his own sangfroid. Mike sat down, his body too large for the petite blue couch. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once. ‘But I ain’t been idle, miss, I swear it.
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