” Michelle opened the door. The arrangement had been made by the town matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. The teacher turned towards the blackboard to inscribe the names of Capulet and Montague. On the floor, underneath the sixth row desks, was an ashtray with a small black dot of blood on its blunt round corner. That was the wonder of these stories; one lived in them. ’ ‘You’re incorrigible,’ scolded Hilary, beginning to follow. ’ ‘I don’t even know your granddaughter, ma’am. "If I had my old tools with me, we'd soon master this obstacle," he muttered.
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