” She lied. ” “I had to,” she repeated. It was a gorgeous May evening, the air redolent with the soapy purple scents of hyacinth and lilac. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. This was in Tennessee. In the second, she was wretchedly poor, and assailed by temptations of which you can form no idea.
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