The small bed’s hospital corners had been put into disarray by Michelle’s crying fit. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. I don’t see that men need bank it with the women. Michelle walked up the concrete porch steps, gesturing to Lucy to do the same. Manning would on no account do, though he was tall and dark and handsome and kind, and thirty-five and adequately prosperous, and all that a husband should be.
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