‘Lay him down on a sofa,’ Melusine said, coming out behind them and moving towards the antechamber. Lucy felt her eyes misting up, turning traitor. The other must call a coach as quickly as he can. Michelle had charitably taken to sitting with Lucy during Lunch Period, where she assumed a station at the outer edges of the Cafeteria, the crowd diffusing in concentric orbits, the middle tables reserved for only the most prestigious castes. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike.
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