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” He beamed upon her. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. She needed to protect the baby. Besides, he was a Yale man. Lucia had never been so happy, so content. . Nothing ensued. " "I didn't suspect you of so much superstition, Mr.
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