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She had carried a chair into the room veranda and had watched and listened until the night silences had lengthened and only occasionally she heard a voice or the rattle of rickshaw wheels in the courtyard. Michelle had begged her to do it. He could see lust virtually dripping from the dark-haired boy’s maw as she teased every last note from her shuddering violin, the devil in a black skirt. To be ill and helpless. ’ Leaning down, she raised the hem of the petticoat of her habit to reveal a neat little pair of boots on her feet.
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