Again he played for her; and again the eruption of the strange senses that lay hidden in her soul. Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. For that matter, my future be damned. Her long arms handled the sword with a memorized ease and grace. "A great deal!" replied Thames. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. "I alone am to blame. But you must not imagine me wrapped in melancholy.
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