“Fearful old fogey! I can’t imagine any sister of yours putting up with him for a moment. Lucy stared like an automaton at Michelle’s unconscious 262 body, revolted at her own actions to the point of shock. She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. To find the true father at the expense of the beautiful fairy tale Ruth had woven around the woman in the locket was an intolerable thought.
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