Both carried packages of books and magazines. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. When I carried you up here like a bride, that is the way I wanted us to be, Mary Lucia. She realized that he was the sort of man one does not think much about at dinners. The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. “One doesn’t want to turn the whole thing into a mere sex antagonism. They sat on a wooden bench that overlooked the less aromatic part of the lake, deeper and not as frequented by geese.
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