“It is rather odd,” he said, “but I always thought that your name was Annabel and hers Anna. She tried to imagine herself “getting something,” to project herself as sitting down at a desk and writing, or as returning after her work to some pleasantly equipped and free and independent flat. ‘I thought as how it couldn’t do no harm, and as it turns out, it done me a bit of good. . 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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