Outside stood a stocky, combat boot-clad girl of seventeen with a teased mass of spiky bottle-black hair. ” “Not long ago,” she said, “you left me in anger, partly because of this exchange of identities between Annabel and myself. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. "You cannot understand me, Madam; and it is well you cannot. "And now, farewell, Mr. \" She said, bashful.
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