She turned quickly. Lucy slipped upstairs silently. She was alarmed at how little her husband Gianfrancesco packed for the trip, leaving behind his best scarlet and black lucco, which he wore for every business and political meeting. In the circles into which he had been born, the passing on of land was of vital importance. I must go and dress at once. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done.
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