" "Ah, Jack," said Wood, shaking his head, "where there's a will there's a way. My name is Ferringhall—Sir John Ferringhall. ” Lucy could tell that Michelle was lying by the way her pupils reacted, no longer following the sunlight. 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.
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