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” She fumbled with her keys and opened the front door. They could no longer stay in one place. Eight per cent. I can’t forget about your sister. It was Jack, wasn’t it?’ ‘Aye, s-sir. I just never had anything else fun to do. The call of youth to youth, and we name it love for want of something better: a glamorous, evanescent thing "like snow upon the desert's dusty face, lighting a little hour or two, was gone.

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