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"As is my professional custom, I invited myself to dinner
with the Dimmesdales.
The familial meal table invariably brings issues out into
the open, making my job as marriage counselor far
simpler.
We sat there for a full hour, sipping our drinks. I had a
delicious 'Pimms' and lemonade.
The husband - I forget his name - silently cried into his
napkin, while his shortsighted wife stared at me and
answered my questions with strange mumblings.
Well, when the food finally arrived I asked for it to be
wrapped up so I could take it home.
I told them they had nothing to worry about and bade my
farewell.
The pork chops were a little on the chewy side, but
acceptable."
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