She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever. She shut the door behind her. Then pain entered their depths. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. Besides, I would tear out my tongue rather than let it speak her mother's infamy. Beyond that everything was nebulous. “You’re our superstar!” Turning to her foster father, she was bear hugged again, squashing the white carnations.
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