Bridget sat staring at him from across the room. She said, "Paddy McGuire, ye were drunk again last night, weren't ye?"
Paddy said, "Why are ye accusin' me of such a thing?"
"Ah, well," Bridget said, "it could be the open front door; it could be the broken glass at the bottom of the stairs; it could be the drops of
blood trailing through the house; it could be yer bloodshot eyes; but mostly, I'm thinkin', it's all those Band-Aids stuck to the hall mirror."
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