" "I should like to hear all particulars of the affair," said Jackson, "if it wouldn't be troubling you too much. "Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. I’m off to England. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. You go home and wait a century, Vee, and then try again.
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