My mom doesn’t realize that I’ve got my own style. That she possessed any sense of humour was in itself one of those human miracles which metaphysicians are always pothering over without arriving anywhere; for her previous environment had been particularly humourless. We were fellow passengers from Charing Cross, and we have been fellow lodgers in the Rue d’Entrepot. “Freedom! Citizenship! And the way to that—the way to everything—is the Vote. The son of Prudence instead was obliged to take her back to the convent on Sunday to see Martha and tell her the good news, and to fetch her meagre belongings. What gave the puzzling twist to an ordinary situation was her manner: she was guileless. “I love you, you know. The other photo was a picture from 1926 subtitled Lucia Iovelli where you were holding a violin at a music recital! Then I found another picture of you, but this time it was a painting.
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