“Why did you do it?” her aunt urged. \"Has that John asked you for a date?\" Cathy added. Her pat answer to all inquiries was, “I let my sister Shari make me over,” while she kept from staring at her own reflection in the shiny shoes past her bare knees. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. ‘Dolt! Muttonheaded oaf! Why the deuce couldn’t he have sent you home?’ Valade cut in at that. Raymond Plote would only be missed by his mother. This farewell had been particularly distasteful to him. I defy you to explain it away. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face.
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