\"Would you like some orange juice?\" Larry had already been working outside for an hour, Mike at his side, dragging grass clippings to the compost pile. He turned round to keep Anna out by force if possible, but he was too late. Wood sank, submissively, into a chair, while his daughter hastened to execute her arbitrary parent's commission. "I have not many days,—perhaps, not many hours to live. " "There's a funny idea in my head. " The Wastrel laughed.
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