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My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. It was one of the secret troubles of her mind, this grotesque twist her ideas would sometimes take, as though they rebelled and rioted. “And we will sail that splendor wide, From day to day together, From isle to isle of happiness Through year’s of God’s own weather. But ——” A look checked him. ‘Never fear, my love. " "What for? What do you want of them?" "Why, they are … yours. ” She stopped short, full of things un-said.
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