Michelle’s eyes widened. She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. ” She noted that as a good saying, and it germinated and spread tentacles of explanation through her brain. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. Hitherto she had seen it chiefly in pictures and other works of art, incidentally, and as a thing taken out of life. The beautiful city that she had been awed by and even grown to love had been abandoned. Then he did give way a bit.
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