“Tell your sister she was right to shoot, quite right. "I alone am to blame. You cannot care for her. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. She stared at his pleading face.
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