His frowning gaze came back to her. He was asleep. ‘I thought, you see, that we might as well enter by the same way our intruder had done. They thought that she was her own mother. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. She dropped a flower—it’s in my pocket-book now. It sounds as if he must have been terribly upset by my actions, otherwise why should I hear of this matter from you?\" Michelle shrugged. That window there….
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