Michelle sat on her bed, which emanated scents of powdered laundry detergent and Sweet Honesty perfume. The bolder members in the House left their places to go lobbyward, grinning. Piercing through every crevice in the clothes, it, in some cases, tore them from the wearer's limbs, or from his grasp. Michelle had charitably taken to sitting with Lucy during Lunch Period, where she assumed a station at the outer edges of the Cafeteria, the crowd diffusing in concentric orbits, the middle tables reserved for only the most prestigious castes.
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