\" \"No, but can you carry my lunch bag? Where is yours?\" Michelle asked. It was a dead calm. Thanks. At the back of her mind, Melusine noted an odd look in the boy’s face, but there was no time to explore it. What right had she to call herself “Alcide”? It was abominable, an imposture. She had removed her hat and utterly disarranged her already unruly black locks by running agitated fingers through them.
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