‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. I saw her face and it was the face that had been hidden from me in dreams, a face very much like yours, Lucia. ’ ‘A mistake, I agree. Now then. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. You are afraid—that here in London—I shall not be a success.
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