“Won’t you have some more tea, Mr. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent. It would not have been for her an anomaly to read a love story in which there were no kisses. The word handsome was a little beyond her grasp. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. 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. “Ask me nothing. “Mr.
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