He temporized, and the girl raised her eyes once more to his. She stumbled through a thorny copse, her slippers sliding on patches of sand that gave way to rock. She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. “As I have explained many a time, Lucia, the maladies of the blood and flesh do not afflict us. 23 She had always considered herself a simple wool maker’s daughter, but she began to realize that by marrying Gianfrancesco she had unwittingly gained entrance to a separate world.
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