Her greatest exploit was the howling before the mid-day meal. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears. Her hair had become so matted that Sebastian had sheared it off, which made her the very mirage of a nubile young boy. 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. For your information, it was paradise there. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. But I waited in vain.
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