Her two sticks were bare and brown, her snugged canvas drab, her brasses dull, her anchor mottled with rust. "Go!" said Lady Trafford; "it is my last request. All who lived there aspired to be something greater, all who lived there had hope, even the slaves! Oh, Lucia, if you could have seen the Parthenon, or attended the plays at the Athaneum, you would know why I loved it there. What a pig she was. You do not believe me. Then Ann Veronica passed on toward the tea in the garden, which was dotted with the elite of Morningside Park society, and there she was pounced upon by Lady Palsworthy and given tea and led about.
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