The little room was fragrant with flowers, Anna herself bright, and with all the evidences of well being. Several people in the crowd seemed to be fighting. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors. Even Lucy’s bra and panties, the ubiquitous polyester underwire and matching cotton bikini briefs from Kmart, were gone. Little did I imagine at the time that it was my own father to whom he referred.
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