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He devoured her with his eyes too, his shyness not able to disguise his furtive glances at the curvy outline of her breast against the imitation silk, his memory still exquisitely tortured by her movements in the miniskirt. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. You’ll never even see me again, for that 268 matter. They did not want her. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. 1.
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