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Marry me. Then she raised the glass nearer to her lips. “Maybe we could swing a scholarship to Boston College for you, you know, with your violin and all. "You want me, then?" she said. She was always initiating petty breaches of discipline. The others hurried to the window. You’d make a good Devil. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. ‘I’ve eyes in my head, haven’t I?’ He grunted. Puffy blue curtains dressed every oakstained window.
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