Part 7 That was two days before Christmas Eve. “Better state of mind,” she gasped. ” “I should have his head on a platter!” Sebastian exclaimed dramatically. “It’s bound to be all right,” she said. Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her. 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. The Frenchman had moved back into Piccadilly from Down Street, at which the lad following him had immediately sauntered away a yard or two. She was flushed, and her eyes were bright and angry; her breath came sobbing, and her hair was all abroad in wandering strands of black. Wood became sensible that he was not alone. How different were his present feelings compared with those he had experienced on quitting it. She yielded it without protest, as though unconsciously. She is, in her way, a dear. She became eager to explain herself, to show herself in the right light.
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