Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. It was on the night of the Great Storm that I found him. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. Without her, it was lonely. It was at his side below the breast, hidden by the dark colour of his close-fitting jacket. “These are the sort of things that aren’t supposed to happen. "Ever play one of these machines?" "Yes.
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