β Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. β βHe seems like such a nice boy. The evening breeze came; the bamboo shades on the veranda clicked and rasped; the loose edges of the manuscript curled. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. Sydney was watching her eagerly.
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