It is like a second honeymoon. My father died a year ago, by the way. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. ” “But why?” “He’s married—and, I believe, living separated from his wife. “No. All make the same answer—'d—n you, keep it. U. He did it, he said, “to distract his mind. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. They thought that he was dead at first, and they took him to the hospital. You two can talk in Lucy and Shar’s room for a few minutes. "I was right," replied Jack, returning as coolly as if nothing had happened. Yes—as he would have liked. She had found a couple of articles about him over the years, blurbs about the opening of a theater that mentioned him.
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