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She had had to do away with many a leering foster father since she had started frequenting foster homes in the middle of the century. ‘I do not understand you. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. Both started.
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