His voice now had lost its ironies. 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. From time to time the man below would shout, and the boy would let the threads go with the snap of a harpist, only to recover them instantly. When she was quite sure that he was gone she took her sister’s note from the mantelpiece and slowly broke the seal.
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