The stench was cheese-like and unbearable and Lucy dry-heaved. She could not say a word, much less move. Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful. Edgeworth Bess and Poll Maggot are dying to see you. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. I want you.
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