“You’re our superstar!” Turning to her foster father, she was bear hugged again, squashing the white carnations. " CHAPTER VI. “By God! Ann Veronica,” he said, sighing deeply. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint. When Sheila was in a bad mood, she berated her new foster daughter for streaks on the windows, dust on the figurines, for crooked bed sheet corners, and floors that had not been waxed properly. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned.
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