What was he doing? What was he thinking? It was less than a day now, less than twenty hours. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. \"Why don't we wait and see what he does?\" Lucy looked at Michelle readily, her back swinging ever so 36 slightly from side to side as they trudged down the skinny sidewalk. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred.
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