You understand what I mean. ’ ‘That’s better. You've your own reasons, no doubt, for bringing up her son —perhaps, I ought rather to say your son, Mr. ” Lucy spoke up, “We used to call that ‘playing the coquette’. I did not want anything made smooth and easy for me. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. Open it. He has been bottling it up all the way from West Kensington.
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