So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. She did not know Mr. ‘Tell me the truth, Melusine. ‘Go then. “It’s unforgivable of me to call, Miss Stanley,” he said, shaking hands in a peculiar, high, fashionable manner; “but you know you said we might be friends. Her name is Lucia, she works in the Alberti Yarn Shop, across from Florestano the Butcher!” I happily rewarded her with a shiny new Florin and sent her off.
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