Daughters were not like sons. She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. Nothing else so quickly establishes the condition of comradeship as the sharing of a laughable incident. ‘What now?’ ‘Now,’ she answered flatly, ‘you will please to tell me at once why you have come here. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. “Come on.
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