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"Insult you! not I;" returned Figg. Time was moving so fast, she could no longer count the days since Gosse had come to her with his preposterous suggestion at the Coq d’Or, where they were staying and where he had robbed her and left her and Martha to their fate. "I'll soon free you from these bracelets. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. At least, you are one, and I am disguised like one.
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