The students passed Juicy Fruit sticks and notes back and forth, bartering various forms of social currency. The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. ” “I’ll try not to see him again,” said Ann Veronica.
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