She felt she must fly before it and could no longer do so. Paris, 18. She watched them sleep for what seemed hours from the high window until her body grew colder than the stone sill she perched upon. “No! My father. Nothing could exceed the dismay of these personages when they learnt why they had been summoned. 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.
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