” He replied cheerfully. Never bought a shirt in my life, Mr. It was not only that her father had said all sorts of inconsistent and unreasonable things, but that by some incomprehensible infection she herself had replied in the same vein. “I can’t. And all the third act is love-sick music. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. Joe, my foster dad, was a heroin and booze addict.
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