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Grace Wallflower

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Charles turned to his friends, a wide grin making his face hurt.
“You see, Charles? Miss Elliot is not perfect,” Percy explained. “She breaks wind just like the rest of us.”
“She did not break wind!”
“Same thing.”
“Not quite.”
“Did you see Constance?” Edmund asked with a frown.
Percy nodded. “She was hiding from you.”
“I know,” he sighed. “She still hates me.”
“What did you expect? You used to be rather horrid to her,” Percy reminded.
“That was years ago! I’ve changed.”
“Tell that to Miss Beanpole, er Maypole.”
Charles suddenly laughed. “I was absolutely brilliant, wasn’t I!”

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