Her heart was beating with quite unaccustomed vigour, her hands were hot, she was conscious of a warmth in her blood which the summer sunshine was scarcely responsible for. "What's that?" ejaculated the ruffian, glancing uneasily towards the window. Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. It seemed to them they could never have been really alive before, but only dimly anticipating existence. "As sure as one reasonably can be. She peered into the darkness. \" Shari said. Something to tell you. . Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true.
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