Mike was draped over the laminate kitchen counter, on the phone as usual. ‘What in Hades d’ye mean, thanks to me? Want to blame anyone, blame that rapscallion who calls himself your father. Who but you would have dreamed of giving the boy such a name? Why, it's the name of a river, not a Christian. "A hell of a muddle! But all the talk in the world can't undo it. ” “Perhaps not,” she answered.
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