But that explains everything. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. “You’re self-taught, aren’t you, Lucy?” She looked around the table, all eyes upon her. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. He resented being regarded as irregular.
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