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“You have a plaster on your head,’ my mother says. ‘Oh!’ I say, flushed with relief. ‘Yes. I walked into a table.’ ‘With your head?’ Ah. Good point. ‘Actually, it was a door.’ My mother smiles thinly. ‘Of course, it was.” — Andy Marr
You have a plaster on your head,’ my mother says.
‘Oh!’ I say, flushed with relief. ‘Yes. I walked into a table.’
‘With your head?’
Ah. Good point. ‘Actually, it was a door.’
My mother smiles thinly. ‘Of course, it was.