“Amazing. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. She appeared to be considering. The only part of his otherwise-interesting countenance, to which one could decidedly object, was the mouth; a feature that, more than any other, is conceived to betray the animal propensities of the possessor. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. She had nothing to say for herself. She guarded her mother, or at least she had liked to think so. She watched for five minutes until he completely disappeared over Pine Crest, past the yellow fire hydrant and the dented stop sign. Or perhaps my father once. Michelle had warned her of the girl, calling her “Bitchster”. It is Thérèse. “Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly.
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