“I suppose all life is an affair of chances. Plote was sleeping or deaf. The lights rolled over, and were extinguished. . ” Miss Stanley turned to her. "Well, Mr. “Uh, can you get me a soda or something?” She said, shielding her exposed teeth with her hand. "I must tell you," she was saying. ” She smiled at the thought. When she awoke, she felt sick, her mouth still salty with blood.
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