Herculis was a port city on the Tyrrhenian Sea not far from where the manor had been. She could hear him from the lower floor as he locked the gates and drew up the wooden part of the bridge. “Just forget it, Lucy! Keep your secrets to yourself!” He stomped out, slamming the heavily paneled oak door. Natives are queer. She thrust at him, following, almost spitting him as he crashed against the altar, rocking the huge candlesticks and the vessels that stood on it. He smiled grandly; she could feel the radiance of his approval from across the wedding table.
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