“Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. But Jack was too nimble for him. . S. ' He muttered it continually. ‘Danged if I ever hear the like! A Frenchie is what you are, and there ain’t no granddaughter Charvill no more. The sun lingered, finally dropping beyond the dark canopy of pine trees at the edge of the park.
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