That dress is thirty years old, if a day. 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 am sorry. ’ ‘Success?’ Her eyes narrowed. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. Would you tell her … now?" his eyes flaming with mockery. “I can’t believe it. His first wife. This hand consigned him to destruction, but another was stretched forth to save him.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDMuMTQzLjI0MS4xNTkgLSAwNC0wNy0yMDI0IDA5OjIwOjM4IC0gMTEzODg1MTQ3OQ==
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