Michelle ate fast, and Lucy followed her lead, shoveling mashed potatoes and salmon down her gullet in a passionless frenzy. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Sheppard. There was every indication that she fled the island in company with a dissolute rogue. ‘You would have a history of my life? Very well.
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