Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. Smith's solitary orb followed in the same direction. They would arrive sometime in June. There was an air of repressed gaiety in her actions: the sense of freedom had returned; her heart was empty again. M. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. FOREWORD Forever Fifteen was born of a dream I had in 2002, a dream that was part nightmare.
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