Owen Meany did not miss the irony in my grandmother's voice; yet he beamed at her-and he returned her curtsy with a confident bow, and with a little tip of his red-and-black-checkered hunter's cap. But we studied for all announced tests together, and I was-gradually-improving as a student. DO YOU SEE WHY? he asked me. I knew without speaking to Owen that neither of us would ever play Little League ball again, and that there was some necessary r
YOU'RE NOT A CHURCHGOER, Owen said accusingly- Why no, I'm not, that's true, Mr. Tabitha Wheelwright, I said. Something is wrong with the president, Ethel said. Maybe I'd prefer to spend some nights every week with him, and some nights at Front Street-any nights I wished, in either place.
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