Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. “Do not look so uncomfortable, both of you,” she begged. "I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. " She opened the book which she had brought to the table. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree.
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