“Dear friend,” she said, “do you not think that you are breaking an unspoken compact? I am very sorry. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. As she did so, the ruffles to the jacket of her riding habit fell away, exposing livid blue bruises about her wrist, ugly in the light of day from the window at their back. .
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