Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. Brendon and Courtlaw who had been watching for her, met her at the door. Blueskin and the Minters were dragging Wood to the pump. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha.
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