She looked down tassels of his shiny shoes with a scowl. Go on. She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. On the Day he had trumpet-like outbreaks of cordiality, varied by a watchful preoccupation. Lucia watched in fascination as Isobella nodded at her, only three years older than she, nursing her son with a contented smile upon her face. She left for good after he fell asleep. But I had to know for sure.
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