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Table of contents
CONTENTS
LESSON-1-2
LESSON-3
LESSON-4.1
LESSON-4.2
LESSON-5.1
LESSON-5.2
LESSON-6.1
LESSON-6.2
LESSON-7.1
LESSON-7.2
LESSON-7.3
LESSON-8
LESSON-9
LESSON-10.1
LESSON-10.2
LESSON-11
LESSON-12
LESSON-13.1
LESSON-13.2
LESSON-14
LESSON-15.1
LESSON-15.2
Contraception
The Sex Life of the Gods. Michael Knerr. CHAPTER-1
CHAPTER-2-3
CHAPTER-4
CHAPTER-5-6
CHAPTER-7-8
CHAPTER-9-10
CHAPTER-11-12
CHAPTER-13-14
CHAPTER-15-16
CHAPTER-17-18-19

the biggest event in their lives is going to the state fair. They're 

Lancaster Dutch, recently imported, and they believe in the hex signs 

they painted on the barn." 

 

Brice nodded. "Okay, John." 

 

The farm couple were strangers to Brice, but their type was familiar. 

Pennsylvania was full of them. They were, as Cartwell had said, good 

people. They were farmers, about three jumps above the witchcraft 

believing stock that had given them birth and were hard to understand. 

They were the stay-at-home type, to whom Pittsburgh was the Far West, 

and if they were forced to move farther than fifty miles away from home, 

their relations screamed that they would never see them again. 

 

The woman, whose name Nolan hadn't caught, was plain appearing, with no 

makeup and her hair pulled back into a severe knot at the base of her 

skull. From the moment, she asked them in and poured their coffee, he 

liked her. In her own, slow way she was a fine person, but her world 

was the farm, her life was the soil. 

 

"Have you found that poor pilot, yet?" She asked, setting the coffee 

before them. 

 

"No, ma'am," Cartwell told her. 

 

The heavy set woman made a clucking sound with her mouth. "Honest to 

true," she mused. "You'd wonder why a thing like that had to come to 

be." She sighed heavily. "There'll be some poor woman in tears tonight. 

D'you think he was married?" 

 

"I don't know, ma'am," Cartwell said. 

 

"It's the children that suffer..." she said softly and allowed the rest 

of what she was about to say trail off as Dickson came in. He smiled at 

the farmwife and she poured him a cup of coffee. 

 

Dickson pulled off his hat. "I'd like to thank you," he told her, "for 

being so kind..." 

 

The woman looked pleased and flustered at the same time; there was a 

tinge of flush about her face. "Bosh," she said, smiling. "It's the 

least a body can do. I know I'd feel real glad to have someone helping, 

were it my boy up there." 

 

"Your boy flies?" 

 

"He did." The woman looked a bit pained. "He was killed during the war." 

 

"I'm sorry," Dickson said, and reached for a doughnut from the plate on 

the table. 

 

A silence fell over them as they waited for the coming of dawn and a 

chance to really look the wreck over. Nolan was somehow glad to be 

spared of conversation with the others. He felt like a criminal, with 

the small gold watch in his coat pocket and he wanted to tell Dickson 

and Cartwell about the thing. But he couldn't. For the first time in his 

life he was delaying an investigation, hiding evidence. He was well 


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