Curiosity held her by one hand, urging her to recklessness, and caution held her by the other. And it’s no good pretending there is one when there isn’t. Wood had prevented him from paying much attention to the previous scene. If only to say goodbye. He had sufficient strength to wait upon himself. ” She leaned against the back wall of the place, sinking slowly. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua.
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