Sylve was dying.
His wife sat at the bedside.
He looked up and said weakly, “I have something I must confess.”
“There’s no need to,” his wife replied.
“No,” he insisted, “I want to die in peace. I slept with you, r sister, your best friend, her best friend, and your mother!”
“I know, I know,” she replied. “Now just rest and let the poison work”
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