“A girl needs her mother most exactly when she thinks she doesn’t. I had a perfect shoal of callers. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. Shari was to be protected, to be dissuaded from driving in cars with older boys at night, to be steered away from dope and beer and certain friends who had no plans to work or to go to college. She felt a semi-sharp object being gently impressed into her back. “I couldn’t help it. The doctor smoked his pipe thoughtfully. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. . . “You’re Glorious!” said Miss Miniver in tones of rapture, holding a hand in each of hers and peering up into Ann Veronica’s face. His last actions were futile. "Who? Jack!" exclaimed Jonathan.
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