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There is no Heaven for your mother. Chapter Two ‘Our French friends are beginning to form quite a little coterie,’ remarked Gerald, covertly studying the group gathered in an alcove at the other side of Lady Bicknacre’s ballroom. 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. All her pride raged at me. I—well, I borrowed Anna’s name. But this was but a momentary gleam of personal application, and at this time she followed it up no further. She remained stonily in the middle of the hallway until the spinsters' door shut them from view … for ever.
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