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. My father died a year ago, by the way. At last—I told a story. America, the land of rosy apples and snowstorms, beckoned, and she wanted to fly thitherward. ’ She struggled.
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