“And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull. Here was a thundering blow. But Melusine’s own words had thrown an idea into her head. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers.
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