After the day in the library, he constantly demonstrated his affections; Gianfrancesco had never done that. Shari was to be protected, to be dissuaded from driving in cars with older boys at night, to be steered away from dope and beer and certain friends who had no plans to work or to go to college. "Here I am, Captain," cried a voice from without. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. "Oh!" she gasped.
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