Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse. "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. Luckily, she was bereft of consciousness, and was thus spared the additional misery of witnessing what afterwards befell him. She was the first to hear another car approaching from the street, an odd occurrence in an elementary school lot that had been abandoned for the weekend. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. God, how old are they now? They must be teenagers. I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. It was below consciousness, elusive; so he sent out a call to his friend, defensively. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother.
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