Further on, there was a small chandler's shop, where Jack observed an old woman seated at the counter, attended by a little girl. “I”—he seemed to have a difficulty with the word—“I love you. Sheppard, bitterly. Befuddle yourself, if you want to. 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.
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