"I wouldn't force him for the world: but if he don't tip the stivers, may I be cursed if he don't get a taste of the aqua pompaginis. I’m sick of this town and I can’t wait to get out. They walked across a moat of pea gravel that crunched like noisy cereal under their feet. Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. “Isn’t that rather a strange question—under the circumstances?” he asked quietly. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t. But it's an odd case.
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