She showered after she heard the door shut and the cars pull out of the driveway. Her acrid rose perfume oil that hung in the air that smelled like a head shop, her V. Ah Coom. 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. It was your sister who married Sir John Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t it?” Anna nodded.
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