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Burning Soup
My Candidate For The Week
Colin decided then and there that the female mind was a strange and incomprehensible organ - one which no man should even attempt to understand. There wasn't a woman alive who could go from point A to B without stopping at C, D, X, and 12 along the way.
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“In three days," he continued, "I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"
"You'll save me from marauding minotaurs?”
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“Hyacinth,” Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, “do try to speak in complete sentences.”
Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression.
“Biscuits. Are. Good.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Noun. Verb. Adjective.”
“Hyacinth.”
“Noun. Verb. Adjective.” Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face.
“Sentence. Is. Correct.”
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“In three days," he continued, "I will be your husband. I will take a solemn vow to protect you until death do us part. Do you understand what that means?"
"You'll save me from marauding minotaurs?”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Hyacinth,” Lady Bridgerton said in a vaguely disapproving voice, “do try to speak in complete sentences.”
Hyacinth looked at her mother with a surprised expression.
“Biscuits. Are. Good.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Noun. Verb. Adjective.”
“Hyacinth.”
“Noun. Verb. Adjective.” Colin said, wiping a crumb from his grinning face.
“Sentence. Is. Correct.”
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