She would never forget the agony of that first meal in the great dining room. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. The panel in the bookcase. But it is the truth. 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. He seemed to stay away from her because she was so cold and formal towards him, addressing him as Mister McCloskey as if she were an Irish maid. He uttered a deep groan, but said nothing. " The object of this discussion sat motionless.
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