A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. " The doctor was in the middle fifties, gray and careworn, but with alert blue eyes and a gentle mouth. ‘And if not her, for she is dead, then me. I wanted John to be proud to be seen with me.
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