‘His granddaughter?’ ‘Yes, his son’s daughter. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. F. To O'Higgins—for all his sordid business he was not insensible to beauty—to O'Higgins she appeared to have entered the room with the light.
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