“Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. \" Michelle met her at her locker, right on schedule, carrying a backpack so overstuffed it was its own conversation piece. "Leave me, Sir; I insist. ’ ‘As a matter of fact, it isn’t,’ conceded Gerald. She gasped with pain, but she did not release her grip. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his.
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