Yes, indeed. That was certainly true. And it was a mark of shame for Merry to walk through the streets wearing British cotton while loyal Americans had switched proudly to coarse homespun. It was useless to try to explain that kind of thing to her aunt. Instead Merry said gently, “Americans aren’t only English, Aunt April. We’re Dutch, French, German, Spanish—”
“Criminals,” said April, “malcontents, and religious fanatics.” She thrust her needle into the pink crossbar of her sampler’s italic letter
A
. “There are times, Merry Patricia, when I feel I could give my two arms if only I could take you with me and travel back to England.”
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