Lucy had just began to invoke a solace where John was concerned, doing her best to shelve him as not so special after all. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. “No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there.
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