His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. The unfortunate woman was stretched upon the floor, with a bloody knife in her hand. It was not a long prayer. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets. ’ ‘That was not what I had in mind. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. “I speak from my heart, and you answer from your brain. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. Using the shirt, she cleaned away the blood. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. Coat, on the present occasion, he had none, it being more convenient, as well as agreeable to him, to pursue his avocations in his shirtsleeves; but, when fully equipped, he wore a large-cuffed, long-skirted garment, which had once been the property of his master. Was the girl seriously expecting him to pull the trigger? Lord, but she had courage! ‘Shoot, then,’ urged the lady.
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