“How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. " "But you are young!" It was a protest, almost vehement. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. She was vaguely happy over this arrangement which put her in the wing across the middle hall, alone. The touch of her hands was pleasurable. ‘Let me see if our minds are attuned. See paragraph 1. She had gone into Morgan's one afternoon for a bag of salt.
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