Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires. ‘But I have been perfectly honest about that. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. ” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia.
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