” “Borrow the money! But who lent you the money?” “A friend,” said Ann Veronica. “My dad is into this stuff. “That thing’s going on,” she told herself. They sat down in a covered pavilion that housed a grimy picnic table and a dingy fire pit. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. CHAPTER III. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them.
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