“It’s very late. "Sit beside me," continued Mrs. EPOCH THE FIRST, 1703. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy. He met her eyes with his fiery black gaze. Something, then, to appease the wrath of God; something to blunt this persistent agony. Dolls. ‘Imbecile.
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