“Guess who I’m going out with?” Michelle asked her one day at lunch. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. She intercepted the glance the spinsters exchanged, and immediately sensed that she had said too much. Tomorrow you will feel like a freed woman. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. In her little sitting-room she turned on the electric light and looked around half fearfully.
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