Michelle briskly made introductions and then joined the fray of conversations. She knew the truth of it all right. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. ‘Get out! Out, I say! Think I want another miserable cowardly good-for-nothing wastrel on my hands? Begone! Out of my house!’ He drove them to the door, grimly satisfied when the girl’s nerve broke. ‘I’ll make you an offer. “She must have character. "What is it you want?" she asked, as she held out the coat. Her family are solid West End people, Kensington people. They compromised at length on the science course at the Tredgold Women’s College—she had already matriculated into London University from school—she came of age, and she bickered with her aunt for latch-key privileges on the strength of that and her season ticket. He pulled down a chair to her left.
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