He was angry. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. ’ Still the girl said nothing. " "I will, when I've had my revenge," muttered Jack. "Miss Enschede—such an odd name!—are you French?" "Oh, no. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man. It was a fetching gown that stretched tightly in a cream colored swath over her breasts and expanded to a full skirt with a petticoat. Who was he to tread on her dreams? She had heroworshipped an unscrupulous adventurer, who had not hesitated to impose on her youth and her ignorance. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. " "But I was intoxicated!" "So was the man you just fought in this room.
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