” “No, that’s okay. Say something. It’s not you—not a bit. But, like all your overbearing sex, you must have your own way. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. But I'm thinking of asking Josh Durkin. She was particularly charmed by his theory of friendship. Every now and then her general presence became radiantly dazzling in his eyes; she would appear in the street coming toward him, a surprise, so fine and smiling and welcoming was she, so expanded and illuminated and living, in contrast with his mere expectation. ‘You’re not going to kill me this time.
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