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Its dreariness, like the filthiness of the police cell, was a discovery for her. . Every house-top, every window, every wall, every projection, had its occupants. " "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. She hoped to turn him off with the mention of Study Halls and detentions, as there were no such animals in 204 Martin’s world of high pressure academics. It was as if the Devil himself had raped and defiled her mother. You’re such a strange girl.
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