It ought never to have begun. How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. ‘Oh no, you don’t,’ said Gerald in a low tone. The advanced guard had endeavoured to disperse the mob in Field Lane, but were not prepared to meet with the resistance they encountered. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter.
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