She tightened her bandage and sat back, biting her lip. "A mother's prayers—a mother's blessings," she cried, with the fervour almost of inspiration, "will avail against a fiend's malice. She slipped on white thin-soled tennis shoes with no socks, her ankles exposed as Shari had once suggested they be worn. I know in Paris you pinched and scraped that your sister might have the dresses and entertainments she desired. It is so difficult.
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