Oh, cuss it!” “Eh?” “He said I would. “May you have as much good fortune as you deserve, but not enough to make you forget us. "I yield to fate. It’s one of our conventional superstitions. Lucy’s guts ached with jealousy and bitterness, building in a knot that twisted in her stomach, rag-like. His father was one of my old customers, and I am happy to find his son treading in his steps.
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