Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. Hers was beauty on a large scale no doubt; but it was beauty, nevertheless: and the carpenter thought her eyes as bright, her complexion as blooming, and her figure (if a little more buxom) quite as captivating as when he led her to the altar some twenty years ago. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. Her naked body was an abomination of caked filth and sagging tubes for breasts.
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