” “Why did you keep her all of these years? What good can it do?” “She created me, Lucia. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. “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. ” He said. ‘But what way, Emile?’ ‘Your family, mademoiselle, the family of your father. The pistol fell to the floor.
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