It had been a big event for teens across town. The Mohocks XII. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. ‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. “Let us escape,” she said. Grasping it firmly with both hands, he quickly wrenched if from the stones in which it was mortised, and leapt to the ground. For what she lacked in appearance, Sheila compensated in gossip. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand.
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