They joined the rabble of aspiring James Deans in torn jeans and bomber jackets and girls with Clairol black hair smoking clove cigarettes. Sheppard, so that if the blow had been stricken she must have received it. It seemed to them they could never have been really alive before, but only dimly anticipating existence. No, no! Not now!" Ruth turned abruptly and walked toward the bungalow, mounted the veranda steps, and vanished within.
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