Very quietly, he added, “Oh Lucia, I’m sorry. Capes was married,” said Ann Veronica, resuming the conversation with an entire disappearance of her former lassitude. Even in her own sorry skin-and-bones state of wraithlike pallor and gray under eye circles she was drawing unwanted attention from would-be admirers. Mere hangers on. Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. He was a good foster dad that had never so much as leered at her, not even once.
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