“Oh, you can act!” she cried. He could not doubt it. She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. “Excuse me?” Mike threw Michelle a strange look, bursting into a grin. Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding.
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