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. She wondered who the girl might belong to as she patted dirt over the shallow grave. ] CHAPTER VIII Slowly Ruth entered her own room. And you, Mademoiselle Melusine, will support this claim.
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