“My dear sweet Lucia. Meat pies with sweet crust were stuffed with macaroni, steaks of pork and beef were pounded thin and grilled rare, capons had been marinated in plum wine and cinnamon, and veal sausages stewed in cream were served over fine noodles: all the dishes that he loved were present. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. "No offence, I hope, my dear Mrs. What were your findings?” Lucy asked. No matter how many books one read, each was different, as each human being was different. I am gambling on his intuition.
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