\"No, not really. She repeated this breathlessly. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. “I wish you would not do it. “Good God!” he exclaimed. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. And now you know. These galleries were separated in the middle by iron grates.
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