‘The sisters here will not save you. “Of course we go to school. John was ecstatic to hear that she had made the coveted first chair position in Orchestra. Her girl Clarice was next, dying within a single day, blood leaking from her pretty brown eyes like an image of the Blessed Virgin. She leaped to a world of shabby knowledge, of furtive base realizations. Like a thorough-bred racer, he would sustain twice as much fatigue as a person of heavier mould. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. It was the blouse that gave Lucy away. Horrible details recurred to her. It was that somebody had cheated you. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware.
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