Nothing else weighs against it. She obeyed, extending her arm. Sweet sixteen year old Shari, who never once figured out the morning sleep hangovers she suffered monthly. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. Yes, I think we have thoroughly thrashed that one out. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth.
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