It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. “If it is a choice between the two,” she answered, “I must be Annabel Pellissier. Though the starling was more than two feet above the level of the water, he alighted with his little charge—which he had never for an instant quitted—in safety upon it. Shari proceeded to paint, brush, dust, slather, and blot Lucy’s face with makeup.
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