He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. “Ciao, Fragolina. She could not help but swoon a little. It’s odd, but nothing but cliche seems to meet this case. She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. Shortly Ruth and Spurlock took the way home.
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