“A silly little priestess who knew nothing of life at all until she came to you. She would write to Gerald. ” An awkward moment of silence followed. ” He left her where she was, crying in the doorway. The funeral, it has just been said, took place on that day. 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. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. Following her lead, he fortified himself with a swallow of the excellent Madeira before responding.
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