The next morning came a compact letter from her father. It did not occur to her that they at least had found a way of earning a living, and had that much economic superiority to herself. Winifred, you are deceived in me. Wood. I want my freedom. She slipped on a white clingy imitation silk tee-shirt, a sexy number that Shari had bought on super-sale at the Limited. ‘Lawks-a-mussy! It’s Miss Mary.
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