Her hair was of the darkest brown, and finest texture; and, when unloosed, hung down to her heels. So she took up Stevenson and began to read aloud. 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. Undraw the curtain, love," she added to Thames, "that I may look at you.
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