We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. She reloaded. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. ” He was a little uneasy. Stanley, “Mr. Sheppard," replied Jonathan, mysteriously.
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