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... o the dining hall and handed her some macaroons I had on me.
Wha, what.
The way I try to appease a crying child seemed kind of like something an old man would do, so I felt rather embarrassed.
“I won’t eat things you give me! They’re dirty!”
“They aren’t mine, the seniors gave me those, you know?”
“You touched them! So they are dirty! Throw them away, get them away, I won’t eat them!”
Harriet was crying bitterly. What should I do, what should I do. This was li ...
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