\"What's your number?\" Michelle asked Lucy. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. Such an obvious ruse, but the boys and girls would defend their pride to the bitter end, the facade of study groups during rutting season. Jack could hardly be accounted good-looking: Thames, on the contrary, was one of the handsomest boys possible.
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