She succumbed to cancer of the breast at age forty-three, it was slow and wasting. "You are not. "'And thine eye shall not pity,'" said her father, in a tone of rebuke, "'but, life shall be for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot. “So am I the jewel or the bug inside?” He smiled. He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. And, though neither peace nor innocence can be restored to my bosom; though tears cannot blot out my offences, nor sorrow drown my shame; yet, knowing that my penitence is sincere, I do not despair that my transgressions may be forgiven.
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