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. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. . I feel like a fraudulent trustee. The Night-Cellar XVIII. Courtlaw. She did not want to seem to shrink from conversation, but all sorts of odd questions were running through her mind. As she danced there was in her ears the faded echo of wooden tom-toms.
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