Or, if you must take off my clothes, don't dash cold water on my head. Yes—as he would have liked. The house will be well rid of him, for a more idle, good-for-nothing reprobate never crossed its threshold. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. I thank God for the very skin that is peeling from your nose, for all things great and small that make us what we are. You must say farewell to her, for I cannot.
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