"Remove him to the Middle Stone Hold,—watch over him night and day, do you mind?" "I do, Sir. Wood. “Sure, are you sure you’re okay?” He exited off the highway onto a quiet road and pulled over. Perhaps that sealed letter was a form of confession, and thus relieved him on that score. They weren’t very chummy with one another but Sheila 113 didn’t expect much from a foster daughter as long as she worked hard, very hard, to earn her keep. Alcohol— would you believe it?—steadies his nerves and keens his brain: which is against the laws of gravitation, you might say. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat.
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