“We were good friends in Paris, weren’t we? You made me all sorts of promises, we planned no end of nice things, and then—without a word to any one you disappeared. “Heavens, look at the time!” she exclaimed. . \" Obediently, Lucia rose from her seated position on the bed and approached the baby and the mother in wonderment. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. "I'd forgotten. He was beautiful despite the odd angle.
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