Their future would be glorious; he saw it in their eyes; he saw it in the beauty of their young heads. Probably a sick man's whim. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. It slid off flimsily. Sebastian knew a dozen languages and could speak them fluently, plus he had an aptitude for numbers that Gianfrancesco did not. It's a thousand pities to hang so pretty a fellow.
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