They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. He looked melancholy enough, it is true. " She had brought home a puppy one day. He’s got flowers. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. I've often regretted that I didn't investigate the matter. He envied her a little.
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