She fluttered her eyelashes, and adopted the soulful tone that served her well at times. ‘She’s perfectly right. “I am one who controls most of the Church, dear. 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. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. "I've counted ten coffins so far. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her.
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