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CHAPTER XXVI. \" It was Michelle's kind way of implying that Lucy's loose black Tshirt and baggy dungarees were unflattering. She heard the ocean in the distance, waves crashing on the beach, high tide. He hated horizons. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. .
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