She gathered her black purse, a pointless thing made of cardboard covered in sateen and bejeweled with an assortment of rhinestones. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. ‘Your niece, ma’am. Lucy did her best to avoid talking about it, but the subject was beguiling, as it almost always brought news about him from the grapevine within which Michelle was intravenously entwined. Mr. ‘The old man who lives here, idiot.
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