181 < 22 > MICHELLE’S STORY The week at school was mostly uneventful save Michelle’s enthusiasm and constant ploys for attention. “I wanted to go to an art-student ball of which he disapproved. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice. “—and your aunt—” For a time he searched for the mot juste. She nibbled at his neck gently, sweetly, as her hand tracing his chest. He accepted this confession conditionally: that no young man had kissed her. “Forty guineas a week. The audience was made up of parents, teachers, and a few other curious folks from town, all sitting hushed in anticipatory silence as the school orchestra assembled onstage. She addressed him in a tone of puzzlement.
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