CHAPTER XXIV Spurlock's novel was a tale of regeneration. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. 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. " "Away with him!" cried Jonathan. . Day before, send round to each to borrow a shirt.
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