She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. ‘Because I love you. "It is Jonathan. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. It is a plain case of alcoholic stupor. She thought of her father in the garden, and of her aunt with her Patience, as she had seen them—how many ages was it ago? Just one day intervened. Lucy stared out to the busy streets beyond. “It’s the centre of the intellectuals. You'll live to hate chicken; and the man in you will rise up and demand strong drink.
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