It is not well that a daughter should talk to her father as Ruth talked to hers that day. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. “When did you get home last night, Lucy?” Cathy interrogated through a yawn. Upon this topic Capes was heavy and conscientious, but that seemed to her to be just exactly what he ought to be. Supper was spaghetti and Italian sausage that night.
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