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Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. That’s Italians for you. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Her soft brown eyes, inherited from Larry, warmed an already pretty face. The curtain rose out of the concluding bars of the overture and revealed Isolde on the prow of the barbaric ship.
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