\" \"Good night, Mom. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. “I murder people, John. ‘That fellow of yours is a deal better, by the by. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. ‘You make me talk, you make me talk. Kneebone, Mrs. She's my mealticket. I’ve never muffed an exam yet. \"So John, are you two lovebirds going to the Junior Prom or what?\" He paused, smirking. I was—I was a corespondent. " "My boots! Fire and fury! They won't fit you; they are too large.
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