Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. I knew where I would go next: Florence. Manning, in an earnest voice, and waved his hand to the alley of mauve and purple. He appeared to be a stranger to the prisoner, and the sole motive of his visit, curiosity. Tucked under the writing-table a pair of yellow and gold Turkish slippers of a highly meretricious quality caught her eye.
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