Michelle ate fast, and Lucy followed her lead, shoveling mashed potatoes and salmon down her gullet in a passionless frenzy. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way. ” To remain, she felt, was to concede everything. He would be so disappointed. what’s your name again?” He asked. But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. \"Good morning, Lucy\".
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