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" "Queer birds. “But why now? Don’t boys know that I am involved with John right now?” “That’s not the way it works, Lucy. “Are you cold?” He asked her, cocking his head to one side like a puppy, so close that the heat of his words warmed her cheek. Eluding the blow, Jack plucked his sword from the scabbard, and a desperate conflict began. And in these crowded four weeks, what had she learned? That all horizons were lies: that smiles and handshakes and goodbyes and welcomes were lies: that there were really no to-morrows, only a treadmill of to-days: and that out of these lies and mirages she had plucked a bitter truth—she was alone.
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