” “You asked your father for a reason!” Miss Miniver repeated. It was a neat, efficient-looking room, with a writing-table placed with a business-like regard to the window, and a bookcase surmounted by a pig’s skull, a dissected frog in a sealed bottle, and a pile of shiny, black-covered note-books. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. ’ ‘As if you could stop her.
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