The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. ’ The listening soldiers began to snigger behind their hands. . " "Never count your chickens till they're hatched," observed Mrs. "My janizaries are within call," returned Wild. And, if I'd my own way with the Secretary of State, he never should.
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