“Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. ‘So are you. "All right," he said. Had she said the words aloud? He pulled her close and she nuzzled her head on his chest. He returned to attend the funeral.
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