When he had finishing feeding and burping, Isobella asked her, “Would you like to hold him?” Lucia nodded yes eagerly. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. “What happened then?” Michelle asked fearfully. That it provided proof of the girl’s identity was one thing. “Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out. At least here she was safe.
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