Hell, my mom hates everyone, don’t take this personally, but she doesn’t like you very much and she isn’t shy about letting me know. I should have thought my note cleared up everything. "How shall I get to you?" "My yacht is in the river. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known.
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