“So you’re the one my son has been talking about. Play fair with her. “I—I didn’t love the man I was engaged to,” she said. “It really seems as if we shall have to put down marigolds altogether next year,” Aunt Molly repeated three times, “and do away with marguerites. F. She killed every month, twelve a year, and was for all intents and purposes a serial killer of middle aged men. “Shit!” John quickly countered, “What are you going to do? She’s a motor-mouth, Lucy, of the worst kind.
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