There's not his peer among the peerage. I have it about me. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. 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. “I’m sorry! Mary! Are you hurt?” “No. He’s a quiet person, and he says that quiet people should never become salesmen.
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