Michelle was on her like a fly, asking her questions about her past foster homes she did her best to avoid, pretending to be swamped every night with sudden reams of homework and unable to be reached by phone. In one hand she carried a long-stalked red rose, dripping with dew, in the other the post-bag. There was a concerted gasp of shock from both the black-garbed lad and the coachman. Lucy stole her last chance to observe Martin Chen, looking provocatively into his 257 eyes as the door was shut.
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