She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. “Who wouldn’t be for you?” The train began to move. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. . ” She replied. ” The corners of her lips rose along with her eyebrows. His was the Latin turn of thinking; he had fallen in love at thirteen, and he was still capable—he prided himself—of falling in love. Come and see him, Lucia.
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