A pane of glass was shivered by each stone. “It was just an hour before teatime,” she remarked. Shamefaced curiosities began to come back into her mind, thinly disguised as literature and art. “Hold on, she’s right here. 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. Easily.
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