“These are the times that would make me glad to live forever, if only they lasted. "It's an ill wind that blows nobody good," thought the carpenter, turning his attention to the child, whose feeble struggles and cries proclaimed that, as yet, life had not been extinguished by the hardships it had undergone. Annabel turned on the electric light and made her way into the sitting-room. Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly.
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