8 pounds, 8 pounds 6 ounces with a head
full of brown? He was flat penny sure she'd
slide out with a slick black head coat. Blue!
She's... blue! said Maria, straining one last whooping
thrill yell. Ah. Slapper' round a little, a gruff ed
chameleon snipped against a finger-streaked ivory stucco.
Dr. Whittle only smiles. Would you like to cut
the cord Mr. ---? The five o'clock shadow
cloche alone couldn't veil Patel's face lift grimace,
What cord... it's a girl, a damned bitch babe,
ain't you the doc anyhows? he said while changing
colors again, disappearing into the delivery plaster.
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