She flung herself back into the bare little room, cold, empty, comfortless. She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. It was horrible, but she must do it. The hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with tenfold fury. " "And loving me, you fought me, avoided all my traps! I'm glad I've been so unhappy.
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