But come in, dear. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand. There was a stain of wine upon her dress. "Let me look at the paper. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. Maggot. She shrugged her shoulders. Plainly. Day after day—five, to be exact—she had returned to Morgan's; and each time the man would understand what had drawn her, and with a kindly smile would sit down at the piano and play. 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. “I have had a trying evening and I need rest. . The unpleasant oily chill of fever overtook her body, and she watched in horror as Sebastian carried her to his bed on his shoulder like a sack of flour.
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