“You haven’t come here to make a lot of difficulties?” she asked. Then he turned with a fierce movement to take her into his arms. I’m a little tired. But if only you will come I do not care. It simply doesn’t count. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming.
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