At the back of her mind, dim and yet disconcerting, was the perception that she herself did not know what she wanted. " "Oh, dear!" simpered Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to hide her confusion by looking steadfastly at her plate. ’ Her lips parted, but she did not speak. Michelle had charitably taken to sitting with Lucy during Lunch Period, where she assumed a station at the outer edges of the Cafeteria, the crowd diffusing in concentric orbits, the middle tables reserved for only the most prestigious castes. It would be the culmination of her plan. "It's very well you haven't crushed the poor little thing to death with this confounded clothes'-bag.
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