He smiled. ‘Hilary was right. Michelle had charitably taken to sitting with Lucy during Lunch Period, where she assumed a station at the outer edges of the Cafeteria, the crowd diffusing in concentric orbits, the middle tables reserved for only the most prestigious castes. “I may go to Hatton House later, but you needn’t wait. “You doubted me?” She joked. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so.
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