The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. “To me it seems serious enough. Her patience was waning fast. “I suppose, Mr. Lucy did her best to avoid talking about it, but the subject was beguiling, as it almost always brought news about him from the grapevine within which Michelle was intravenously entwined.
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