Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. ’ “Crude, I admit. Lots of us are like that. At a little after five, on that day, four horses dashed round the corner of the Old Bailey, and drew up before the door of the Lodge. “No, Lucy, it isn’t fine and I am sorry.
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