Profligate women are never reclaimed. Some of them are now buried at the bottom of the Thames. I did not care—no woman really cares—to play the beggar maid to your King Cophetua. “It’s fine, Michelle. Here are the jade carvers. Look somewhere else in life. Lucy sat in the back seat as the trio sped through intersections in the old sedan. Very slowly emerging out of a phase of stupefaction, these personal affairs and her personal problem resumed possession of her mind. “Why should one pretend?” she whispered.
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