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barbara kingsolver


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prodigal summer

Lusa had only come lately to this truth: she was living among ghosts.

She sighed and got up. She would go back to her own bedroom and read Nabokov or something to shut off her mind. Sleep wouldn't be possible in that bed, either--least of all there--but the bedroom at least had a reading light.





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Last Updated 18 August 2006
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