It was high afternoon, there was no great throng of footpassengers, and many an eye from omnibus and pavement rested gratefully on her fresh, trim presence as she passed young and erect, with the light of determination shining through the quiet self-possession of her face. It distressed and confused her that the girl should not come to her. I used to go by the name Lucy Iovelli, which was my natural father’s surname.
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