So, one day, because God was wroth, her mother ran away with a blackguard, and died in the gutter, miserably. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls. ’ A grimace crossed her face. If he laid his own suspicions boldly before the girl, and in the end the boy came clean, he would always be haunted by the witless cruelty of the act.
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