142 < 18 > THE HIGH PRICE OF FAME Michelle became a constant in those weeks, basking in the shame-ridden celebrity that had been created around Lucy. “I think we have,” he answered, gravely, and took her in his arms, and smoothed her hair from her forehead, and very tenderly kissed her lips. You do not need me to remind you of your success at Paris. I'll bet you haven't given her a bucket of paint in three years. The only mercy you can show me is to kill me.
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