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” “Are you in a hurry,” she asked carelessly. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. Did you realize?\" Lucy's mouth twisted into a half-smile that she could not help. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. By the time John returned with popcorn and a large Coke, the theater had filled up with high-school kids. Not like my father. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. Them young prigs is all alike. You are too kind. Aside from some loose coin and a trunk key, there was nothing in the pockets: no mail, no letter of credit, not even a tailor's label. But underneath this tolerance there is always the vague hope that your manhood will someday reassert itself.
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