“She is living there now,” she remarked. " "I sha'n't want these curtains. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. The car ride to the new movie theater, a multiplex, was brief and harrowing. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. You need only answer me truthfully and you have nothing to fear. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. Imagine her, putting herself to all this delay and inconvenience for a young wastrel she did not know and who, the moment he got on his feet, would doubtless pass out of her life without so much as Thank you! And it was ten to one that she would not comprehend the ingratitude. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. I didn’t realize—I don’t see how I can get out of it now.
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