Lucy slipped upstairs silently. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. “I want to speak to you. ” She shook her head. Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. Mike knocked on the door.
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