There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. Lucy sized up the girl. Gianfrancesco stumbled belatedly onto the beach, his feet padding wet sand. There were mysterious rustlings that made him glance hopefully toward the sea. ’ ‘But what do you want it for, miss?’ ‘But to protect myself. The rain smelled of the Tyrrhenian Sea, which lay only a few paces beyond the manor's white sea-soaked walls.
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