"Here's the door. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already. Jack's body was caught, and passed from hand to hand over a thousand heads, till it was far from the fatal tree. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things. Gracious, there’s the gong.
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