It proved to be a human head, though with scarcely a vestige of the features remaining. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. I want to put myself into your hands. "What poet was that?" "Stevenson. He stepped back further. Then, quite insensibly, her queenliness had declined. \" Shari wanted to own her own hair salon as her mother Cathy had always wanted to.
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