Debbie Roth

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Laurel, when he’d gone, went to the pay telephone in the corridor. She called her studio; she was a professional designer of fabrics in Chicago. “No point in you staying just because the doctor said so,” said Fay when Laurel hung up. She had listened like a child. “Why, I’m staying for my own sake,” said Laurel.
The Optimist's Daughter
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