But you are too young. Laura Hunter. From the day theyarrived in Atlanta thirty-seven years ago, they were non-Jews. A yellow-shuttered, white clapboard with three bedrooms, a sunnykitchen, dining-room, and a living room that looked out on a rosegarden.
Shelistened intently, a hopeful smile lifting the corners of her mouth. We'll go downto Magnolia to live. I'll be at the hospital this evening, she said a trifledefensively. I'll be there, Laura promised.
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