And I decided, rightly or wrongly, not to tell her about the pregnancy.
Of course, this sent a tsunami of duping delight gushing through my veins.
1990: Cuisinart stuck a human eyelash to his clypeus with saliva, twisted it into a handlebar mustache, and greeted citizens as they arrived at the rim of the sink. — Daniel Evan Weiss, The Roaches Have No King (Serpent's Tail 2001, p.16)
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