‘Fiddle, Gerald. She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. He had barely settled at his desk in his library, when he was disturbed by two morning callers. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. What! mum still. "You poor child!" Prudence took Ruth's hands in her own.
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