"Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. But I suppose as I’ll have to wait until you can hear me to tell you again. ” He glanced over at her cockeyed, and then returned his gaze to the road. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. ‘Rather would I die than fall in with such a plan.
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