She felt scrawny, lanky, badly dressed in a baggy black T-shirt, sweaty, not at all beautiful; not even pretty. 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. ” He said admiringly. What’s that?” They both stood listening. The door closed softly upon her. ’ ‘Estate? But are you not obliged to do this work of the milice?’ asked Melusine, her eyes round. If I surprised her, if I saw her alone, I might make her understand.
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