Her head rose. The smell assaulted them even before they entered the restaurant, greasy and savory. Lucy looked down, noticing that Michelle had left her shoes in the entryway. The grate was full of fluttering ashes of burnt paper, and the easy chair near the fire had evidently been used. “Like what, Lucy?” She saw the panic threaten to overtake him. “There is something to be said for the lady-like theory after all,” she admitted. It was ten feet long, a relic.
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