Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye. " "But I'm a poor man. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her. “What do you think of that?” he asked.
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