She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. She looked at him as he fingered a small switch on the side of the helicopter’s door. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. First period was the time to be without her, as she was consumed with some before-school activity as Lucy barely made it to her first class in time for the bell. Why wasn't the world full of love, when love made happiness? Why did people hide their natural kindliness as if it were something shameful? Why shouldn't people say what they thought and act as they were inclined? Why all this pother about what one's neighbour thought, when this pother was not energized by any good will? Why was truth avoided as the plague? Why did this young man have one name on the hotel register and another on his lips? Why was she bothering about him at all? Why should there be this inexplicable compassion, when the normal sensation should have been repellance? Sidney Carton. “You may not leave. Come along, master.
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