Lucy tried not to make her cringe noticeable. “Flesh and flowers are all alike to me. Lucia dismissed the rumors, as it was not likely an archbishop would renege on his duties to become her personal doctor. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. They don’t count, and I don’t care. From time to time, however, he was baffled. “Had the pleasure of dining with you at the ‘Ambassador’s’ one night, before the show, you know—last September I think it was. “She’s sensitive soul, far too sensitive to be married to an ass like Gianfrancesco. I did not reckon upon—him. And so I'll tell you what I did —" And she burst into a laugh that froze Jack's blood in his veins.
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