It isn't your duty. At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. My foster mother, Janine, wasn’t much fatter. I feel almost inclined to regret the fact. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. She could no longer wait.
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