” “Who says I don’t? Didn’t you used to live in Arkansas?” “Alabama. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk. " "I know what is good," she replied. Wild himself if I met him," retorted Jack.
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