Paul’s, were rich and wonderful with the soft sunshine of London, the softest, the finest grained, the most penetrating and least emphatic sunshine in the world. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. She worried for her father in Mantua, 28 hoping that he was still alive. If I’d meant it, my girl, you’d be dead meat. She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember.
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