” “Where do you go?” “Oh!—Alps. 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 don't believe he is much past forty. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup.
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