But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. The trio of girls approached the newly laid cement curb, where throngs of young girls in pink lip-gloss fanned and preened like peacocks as rich boys circled round, revving the engines of their father's red cars. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. " "Mr. " "Instantly, Sir," replied Austin; "instantly.
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