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. “Pray accept my apologies. There was no broken faith—not even any question of anything of the sort. Something that is born anew each time we meet, and pines when we are separated. "I can't make you understand; I can't make you see things as I see them. ‘Knew you had the lad with you, and thought you were merely delayed.
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