She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. And through it all, like a golden thread on a piece of tapestry, weaving in and out of the patterns, the unspoken longing for love. “How could he call except in your absence, as you are never at home in the afternoon. . ” Michelle extracted another cigarette from her jacket and handed Lucy the lighter. “You do not quite understand,” she said gently. The clergyman, meanwhile, proceeded with the service, while the coffin was deposited at the brink of the grave.
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