Lucy, would you like to be my date for the silly little dance they call the Junior Prom?\" There was a pregnant pause as she digested the information. She rose, paid her bill, and turned westwards. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. But this was important. “In private.
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