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. Richard, I am trying to make two things clear.
No, three. First, I'm serious about wanting to marry you if you'll hold still
for it... or, if you won't, I'll keep you as a pet and cook breakfast for you.
Second, I am indeed a grandmother. Third, if, despite my advanced years, you
wish to have children by me, the wonders of modern microbiology have kept me
fertile as well as relatively un-wrinkled. If you want to knock me up, it should
not be too much of a chore."
"I could force myself. Maple syrup in that one, blueberry syrup in this. Or
maybe I did so last night?"
"Wrong date by at least a week... but what would you say if I had said,
'Jackpot!'"
"Quit joking and finish your waffle. There's another one ready."
"You're a sadistic monster. And deformed."
"Not deformed," I protested. "This foot was amputated; I wasn't born
without it. My immune system flatly refuses to accept a transplant, so that's
that. One reason I live in low gravity."
Gwen suddenly sobered. "My very dear! I wasn't speaking of your foot. Oh,
heavens! Your foot doesn't matter... except that I'll be more careful than ever
not to place a strain on you, now that I know why."
"Sorry. Let's back up. Then what is this about me being •deformed'?"
At once she was again her merry self. "You should know! When you've got me
stretched all out of shape and no use to a normal man
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