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Unformatted text preview: n of Laura Lee's funeral, there had been plenty of hope. Indeed, Gifford had had a good life, one had to admit, fretting it away as she did, but still she had her love of Ryan, she had her beautiful children, she had heart enough to love Mona and leave her alone, though Mona frightened the life out of her. Life. Gifford dead. Not possible. Should have been Alicia. All a mix-up. Horse stopped at the wrong gate. Did Julien foresee this? It was like just a moment \ago-Laura Lee's funeral. Think again about the library-dusty, neglected. Women talking in the other room. Evelyn had taken little Gifford to -the bookcase, and pushed the books aside. She'd drawn out the long string of pearls. "We're taking this home now. I hid it thirty years ago, the day that Stella died here in the parlor. Carlotta never found it. And these, these are pictures of Stella and me too. I'm taking them too. Someday I will give these things to you and your sister." Gifford, leaning back on her heels, had looked at the long necklace in amazement. It made Eve...
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This note was uploaded on 02/20/2010 for the course WRITING 220.200 taught by Professor Julie during the Spring '10 term at Johns Hopkins.
- Spring '10