. ” Ann Veronica thought. Capes came back into her mind. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face.
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