A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband. She meant to leave anyway, or so she would tell herself later. She looked around the apartment for other people. When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. Larry fell off the truck the Wednesday night before she planned on leaving. “You must not think of me as one.
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