"It was silly. “Child! An Oracle is a woman who has had her womb poisoned out of her, a eunuch. I had no right to marry you. "Is it by lettin' you go, my darlin', that I'm to airn it?" inquired Terence. The house was redolent with the smells of cinnamon baking and the stuffed turkey and marinated pork roast. But probably not the truth. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. He did not particularly care. Earles regarded it approvingly.
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