She touched it, and her gaze lifted. A man came out, and walking recklessly, almost cannoned into Ennison. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy. She silently willed him to stop his pacing, to calm down. ‘Yes, do,’ approved Lucilla. You see, I have had to look after myself so long that I have developed a terrible bump of independence.
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