” One Friday, as she was sitting in the fifth row two seats left of center in Sixth Period Study Hall, a dull hard object thudded against the back of her head. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. “I have made over seven hundred pounds in the last week,” he said. Predictably, Charvill turned on him. He was entranced as she walked towards him.
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