In the middle there was a gate. Hips tended to be the bane of Shari’s existence as she tried diet after diet to get rid of them. “Or I know another one who wears cologne. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. Contests were held every year, the type of which depended on her caprice. She entered the kitchen. Softly she rose to her feet.
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