‘She? Sa femme? That is the game then? That she could dare to take my place, that salope. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. If she delayed a day she would delay two days, if she delayed two days she would delay a week, and after a week things would be adjusted to submission forever. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. “Uh, I think I might, Shari. How old are you?” She asked. Loneliness.
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