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" He rose for fear she might touch him again. Opposite to her was a sallow-visaged young man, whose small tie seemed like a smudge of obtusively shiny black across the front of a high close-drawn collar. 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. "No offence," returned Jonathan. He dropped the key on the counterpane. It was finished by the end of that year, each character having asserted itself pronouncedly in my imagination.
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