\" Lucy grinned, thinking of the dark gamey odors she had smelled emanating from a few of the less hygienic boys in school. More importantly, she had her wits. But I never seen Mr Charvill, and when the Frenchie come out, I followed him again, like you told me. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. ‘I only wish I might have won her confidence. She stole the opportunity to peer at his departing figure from the closed curtains of the front room window, his shoulders slumped forward, his posture and his ego slightly deflated.
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