Gazing at her with eyes blinded with tears, he imprinted one brotherly kiss upon her lips. She longed to enjoy human food as he did. As usual the substantive sister—Prudence—did all the talking for the pair; Angelina, the shadow, offered only her submitting nods. “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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