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. ” Annabel looked at her with terrified eyes. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. The big gray spaces of London, the shop-lit, greasy, shining streets, had become very remote; the biological laboratory with its work and emotions, the meetings and discussions, the rides in hansoms with Ramage, were like things in a book read and closed. “Let’s go outside. His countenance was pale as death, but not a muscle quivered; nor did he betray the slightest appearance of fear. All the events of the previous day rushed to his recollection; and though he had been unintentionally the cause of his mother's death, he reproached himself as severely as if he had been her actual murderer. ’ ‘You may not get the chance. "If I could only make you realize what you have done," he said, lamely.
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