She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. She slipped down the perfunctory flight of stairs, short because of the home’s split-level style. Horrible doubts assailed her. “I suppose, Vee, you don’t see much of those Widgetts now?” “I go in and talk to Constance sometimes. He turned round toward her and found her looking at him and standing very still. “You are one of those who must know all about it. Well, I told aunt. They are our food, Lucia, nothing more.
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