“Do you think you’ll ever get married, Lucy?” Lucy shifted uncomfortably as she pulled her makeshift nightgown—an old T-shirt—over her head. She isn't used to cities. ” “I suppose,” Anna said, “that those are reasonable deductions. \" Mark was tall and skinny, a mop of brown hair over a pillar of freckles. But I’m not a slut either, if that’s what you think.
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