They were talking of “Alcide,” as they often did in those days. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect. An early bird clarinetist burst through in a long black skirt, swishing like a bell. . “You did good!” She closed her eyes and rested in the moment, imagining a normal life where she would go to college, have babies with John, watch her children have children, live, and die as she had always wanted to. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield.
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