"But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. When she arrived at the Palazzo, not a single sentry was aware of her presence. And I've made up my mind that a husband ought to believe only half that he hears, and nothing that he sees. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. ” Another differed. A white house that she often found charming loomed gray and ashen, its gardens shorn for the coming winter. It’s—Mrs.
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