She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. His face fell. But she was disappointed. Did the other girls thank you?” “Not really. " "Don't be angry with me, Sir," cried the widow, sobbing bitterly, "pray don't. She perceived that his countenance was only composed by a great effort, his features severely compressed. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. His attitude was as different from Gianfrancesco’s as night was from day.
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