’ She turned, her eyes narrowed. “A little touchy this evening, aren’t we, Missy?” Michelle chided her friend. She did not question or analyze the craving; she took the plunge joyously. Why, then, did he touch it? As he climbed heavily into his chair, she was able to note the little beads of sweat under the cracked nether lip. May I know your name?’ The lady eyed him. "Whose grave is this?" he inquired of a man who was standing near it.
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