She was sorry to find Ramage a little disposed to be melancholy. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. Michelle ate fast, and Lucy followed her lead, shoveling mashed potatoes and salmon down her gullet in a passionless frenzy. She pulled herself together and put her eye to the eye-piece. Sebastian observed coolly, savoring the outline of Lucy’s feral figure hunching over Michelle’s gradually diminishing body.
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