But what did the occupant of the box care? The laugh was always with the dead: they were out of the muddle. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. This is clear over my head. ’ His brows rose. The chance it is the same for both. 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.
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