John sat pensively in the back of his best friend's mother's minivan, piloted by his best friend Mark. " "A word," cried the boy, as the janizary was preparing to obey his master's orders. One must get them with exactly the same intensity. He was out of breath, and spoke in broken sentences. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. I wasn’t.
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