Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. Michelle walked up the concrete porch steps, gesturing to Lucy to do the same. As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. Everything was done in a genteel and ordinary way, but on the other hand, there was no lingering.
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