” One Friday, as she was sitting in the fifth row two seats left of center in Sixth Period Study Hall, a dull hard object thudded against the back of her head. But as the next moment all was profound darkness, Jack easily managed to break away from them. I’ve got too much work. She could almost smell her mother’s attar of white roses and lemon verbena with the memory of the story. But a woman’s life is all chance.
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