F. His glasses were gone. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. If only Gerald would come. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. What does it matter? I am not a pauper, Annabel.
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