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A mother-hug on that day might have changed a lot.
“Youth is a wonderful thing,” said Mr. Harrigan. “What a shame it’s wasted on children.”
“If you come to see her, why’s she your ex?” “Still like her.”
Chuck started the book just to please Grandma, and was soon lost. In his eleventh year he read almost two dozen Agatha Christies. He tried a couple about Miss Marple, but he was much fonder of Hercule Poirot with his fussy mustache and little gray cells.
News people have a saying: If it bleeds, it leads.
“Well,” he said at last, “if I may slightly change an old punchline, you knew I was a rat when you took me in.”
