When I heard about Larry I was going 159 to call you, I was, but, well, there is no excuse, is there? I acted like I was afraid of you, afraid that I liked you, so I ignored you like a coward. She imagined descending the stairs, hearing Mike’s uproarious laughter as she peeked around a vacant corner with a lump in her throat. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy.
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