He tore his gaze away, aware of the quickening of his heartbeat. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. ’ ‘And I love the way you call me imbecile,’ finished Gerald. The shape of the head, the height and breadth of the brow, the angle of the nose, the cut of the chin and jaws, all were fine, of a type she had never before looked upon closely. ‘Don’t be silly. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks. You didn’t even put the twelve words. “Okay. “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.
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