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” “Girls!” cried Ann Veronica. Even to my own brother—if I had one—I could not tell everything, and you, although you are so kind, you are almost a stranger, aren’t you?” “No, no!” he protested. . She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. ‘Tell me, my boy.
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