‘I went to see the doctor this morning,’ I told her when she came back, pausing briefly to get a decent bit of tension going. ‘He told me my heart was buggered.’
She stood very still for a moment, waiting. ‘What do you mean, buggered?’
‘That’s what the doctor said. Perhaps we should look it up in a medical dictionary. I just assumed he meant it was defective in some important way.’
“But didn’t he say what was wrong?’ she asked, looking quite distraught. That was nice.
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