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The manager stared at the empty doorway for a space, shrugged, and returned to his ledgers. The likeness was ridiculous. Michelle was too polite to put it into words. Unless—would he hide from them as he had hidden from her? It was a big house, he said. G. ‘Never. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. Beautiful sculptures of sugar and almond paste decorated the long tables, delicate replicas of flowers and miniature animals, even a small Palazzo sculpted from cakes graced the table. Saturday mornings at the Beck house were routine, coffee, newspaper, bagels, and Looney Toons in no particular order.
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