’ ‘Je m’en moque. You'll live to hate chicken; and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect. Mary Lucia was branded “the earliest riser and the best at keeping up with her chores” by the formidable Sisters at the orphanage. They’re all wonderful cooks.
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