Not like my father. I hate what I have to do to survive. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. And if he didn’t, what was the good of seeing him? “I wish he was a woman,” she said, “then I could make him my friend. "I alone am to blame. "But you've done well to trust me. Senior year started with a whimper.
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