Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. She was not afraid of violence, but she was afraid of something mean, some secondary kind of force. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. He yelled at the girls for neglected to hand Lucy a pair of shorts or a sweater while they stood around in shock. 23 She had always considered herself a simple wool maker’s daughter, but she began to realize that by marrying Gianfrancesco she had unwittingly gained entrance to a separate world. “Idiots!” she said, when she heard this pandemonium, and with particular reference to this young lady with the throaty contralto next door.
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