It’s not like we’re getting married. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. The priest normally assigned the duty in the Iovelli family had fled days before from the chapel. 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. The both of them puttering about the tidy two-story house, Lucy would serve them both steaming cups of tea in the front parlor. “I think they do.
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