’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. No matter how many books one read, each was different, as each human being was different. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. ‘Seems quiet enough,’ observed the junior officer, his gaze raking the shuttered windows of the building’s grey stone frontage. Gianfrancesco became agitated.
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