9. "'Odd's-my-life! what's this?" exclaimed the carpenter, looking at the superscription of one of them. She got out of bed, her eyes still half-closed, and stood slack jawed. I expect company. And in its way it was very well. The uncanny directness of those gray eyes, the absence of diffidence, the beauty of the face in profile (full, it seemed a little too broad to make for perfect beauty), the mellow voice that came full and free, without hesitance, all combined to mark her as the most unusual young woman he had ever met. No amount of scrubbing could remove the stains, the blood of an unknown man she had stolen from the scene of a car accident, a stupid drunk with no license who had wrapped his Chevy truck around a very large oak tree. Hastening to the church, he entered it by the very door near which his first crime had been committed. It was a moment or two before Gerald, opening his eyes on the girl’s astounded expression, recollected himself sufficiently to pull out of the extraordinary impact she’d had on him. \"I'm sixteen, I'm a junior like you.
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