Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. The afternoon had passed now into twilight. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. " With no little effort—for the right words had a way of tumbling back out of reach—he marshalled his phrases, and as he uttered them, closed his eyes to lessen the possibility of a break. So you, Jacques, must go and wait for me with the horse. His manner, however, was as stern and haughty as ever, and his glances retained their accustomed fire.
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