She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler. They unloaded Michelle’s sleeping parents who had been propped up in the back seat, necks craned against each other. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. Into one of these he waded and rolled and rolled, despite her commands. “Wild horses—not if they have all the mounted police in London—shan’t keep me out. There was no rush.
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