" "I have often conjured up some frightful vision of the dead," murmured the knight, "but I never dreamed of an interview with the living. The silence of Canton at night was sinister, for none could prophesy what form of mob might suddenly boil out. I do forgive him; but he will never know now. 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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