Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. “I would rather put up with your own efforts, however clumsy. I'll see. . She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket.
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