The House of Broken Vows
"I know," my father said, when I told him what Mrs. Thorne had proposed. "I know it sounds like madness." "It sounds like desperation." "Is there another?" I thought about Eulalie, my sister, twenty-three years old and gone with a piano salesman who probably did not even own a piano. I thought about the last of our cotton bales, sold six months ago for a price that would barely cover the...
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