"So you did," replied the prize-fighter. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. Whenever she came upon the obliterated word and paused, her father would say: "Faith. \" Larry got up from his chair and trudged to the refrigerator, pouring himself a glass of milk from the never-ending supply of two percent. "Souls," she answered, drily.
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