"To him I owe everything," continued the widow, "life itself—nay, more than life,—for without his assistance I should have perished, body and soul. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do. 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. I had not the time to formulate the decoctions that would have saved him— they take weeks to create and must come from your own blood! You were perilously close to death, and had I not watched you constantly for the week you were unconscious they would have buried you alive! Gianfrancesco was ready to give up after two days, 172 ready to throw you in the plague cart! Of course he had no use for you after bearing witness to the loss of your womanly organs. Then Mike came along. He never finished his sentence. ’ Lucilla gaped. She was ashamed of herself for the simple gladness she felt wash over her as the infant’s screams ended. "My coat!" he repeated, his glance burning into hers.
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