He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage. I suppose most of our daughters would marry organ-grinders if they had a chance—at that age. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. ” Lucy and Sebastian returned to the mausoleum.
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