Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. Blue Ruin will do the job nicely. I'm a slave to my word. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. “I wonder,” she said, “why one writes him sentences like that? It’ll have to go,” she decided, “I’ve written too many already.
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