‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. She ran through the backyards of Pinecrest subdivision, piano wire and a slim jim tucked into her pantyhose. I wrote three letters yesterday and tore them up. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future.
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