“You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. Michelle burst into laughter, followed by John, who almost spit up his cola. " "What faith is to be kept with a felon?" replied the woollen-draper, disdainfully. He savored the last solo, the coda. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue.
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