For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. Teenagers don’t have any power, not of any sort, not in your world, not in the old world. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account.
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