If, when he returned, he blew out the light, she would go to bed; but if the light burned on for any length of time, she would go silently to the study curtain to learn if his agony was still upon him. She liked to cook even though normal food was not nourishing to her. My nerves were in rags. I used to go by the name Lucy Iovelli, which was my natural father’s surname. He would never be able to figure out that: all these miles from Cuba, and you could get a perfecto for thirteen cents.
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