’ ‘But it’s my affair, Melusine. The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight. Somebody may be on the watch—perhaps, that old ginger-hackled Jew. Michelle looked at Lucy's feet, still in the ugly brown loafers she had worn since last year. She had mentioned the address where she and her sister had lived. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. I warned her not to say a word, for it would mean the death of everyone in the Palazzo, including you. ‘So now we come to it.
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