Jack dropped the knife, and walked sullenly aside. "No, Sir, it's quite possible—more than possible. Shari draped herself lazily upon her unmade bed. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. “Hey sis!” He cried drunkenly. She followed the landlady half way up-stairs, and called up to Ann Veronica, “May I come up? It’s me! You know—Nettie Miniver!” She appeared before Ann Veronica could clearly recall who Nettie Miniver might be. "No friend like the mother, for the babby knows no other.
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