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She ran from the knave into the women’s quarters. Usually it was fish sticks and reheated noodles. Some had the dignity and the aloofness of a rock in the sea; and others were as the polished pebbles on the sands—one saw the difference of pebble from pebble only by close scrutiny. Playing became a way of escape. It wasn’t. \" Michelle said. It isn't your duty. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream.
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