‘Pray you, do me this one little service, and do not ask me why. . She told her husband that she wished her nothing more than her own death. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night. ” “It is you,” he cried, “you, who are talking folly, when you speak of friendship between you and me. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. You see, I—I am a woman worshipper. But, as you perceive, I brought it away with me. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action.
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