She thought gleefully of the dress she would get to wear for the Ball (Prom?) and could not wait to tell her foster family about how excited she was. “I don’t want children, Lucy. Moments are ages now. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. I’ve got too much work. ” She smiled, sure of herself beyond any pretending, into his troubled eyes.
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