She changed into a halter top and a pair of tight jeans herself, and let Lucy brush her long, glossy hair as they talked about mascara, schoolwork, and boys. ‘I’ll wager that militiaman never rode the animal, then. “I never dreamt!” she said. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea.
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