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The crowning aspect of the incident, for her mind, was the discovery that he and her indiscretion with him no longer mattered very much. 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 touched bow to strings, playing a fifth. And in the Avenue she had an encounter with Ramage. She looked directly at his face, his perpetually graying hair, his hawkish nose, his long cheekbones. ‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. She gazed with a quiet detachment toward the window and the Oxford Street traffic, and in her heart she was busy kicking this man to death.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 18-05-2024 14:40:52
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