Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. “My Mom never gets a good night’s sleep. Yet he was in a state of hopeless bewilderment. . 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. You are my slave—and such you shall continue. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so.
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