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Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. Never mind. She did not speak to John in the week of school left after the Prom. The doctor's lessons, perhaps delivered with too much serious emphasis, had destroyed that buoyant confidence in her ability to take care of herself. “Can’t you believe me? I am Meysey Hill. “To be an actress,” he said, “you require a special and peculiar temperament. Anna was unimpressed. ” “What’s our lot?” asked her sister.
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