His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. “Has she ever thought of buying a pair of foam earplugs?” Lucy asked. The eggs were all right, but nobody in this part of the world had the least conception of what the coffee bean was for. She looked at him gravely and squinted. He even thought he could detect the voice of Jonathan, urging and directing them. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so.
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