“To your room!” Michelle cowered, her face flushed with anger. ‘I will do so. How long have you been playing?” Lucy breathed an internal sigh of relief. “And now,” she said, splintering the surviving piece of coal into indignant flame-spurting fragments with one dexterous blow, “what am I to do? “I’m in a hole!—mess is a better word, expresses it better. I am engaged to sing every evening at the ‘Unusual’ music hall.
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