“The Beck family has the cooking gene. ” The shock of their intellectual attitude was over, usage robbed it of the first quaint effect of deliberate unreason. "I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs. I'll eat them when we start. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. "I cannot—dare not injure him," rejoined Trenchard, with a haggard look, and sinking, as if paralysed, into a chair.
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