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. "If any one's to blame, it's me. “It’s the warming up of the year, the coming of the light mornings, the way in which everything begins to run about and begin new things. When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. ” She trailed off as the smell hit her nose. "It is never too late. In truth, she liked Gerald also. He swore when I tried to get it out with the ladle, and told me what it said.
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