“Not since 1582 when I left him and came to America. A home MAY be a sort of cage, but still—it’s a home. Of you, I mean. When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. “Lucy, where is your callous? All violinists have calluses on their necks and hands from playing. To my loving parents and brothers, and my Aunts, Gail and Barb.
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