” Lucy omitted the part where she “disappeared” him. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. But the clearly definite thing was the ultimate escape. “Look at our clothes,” she exclaimed, “and besides, the funny little proprietor has gone down himself to help it along. Had she not seen them go forth with tracts in their pockets and grins in their beards? To set fire to his imagination, to sting his sense of chivalry into being, to awaken his manhood, she must present some irresistible project. She would never return to her father; that resolution was final. He was a handsome man, and Lucy could see the strong resemblance of John to him. The air might be cool, but half an hour without head-gear was an invitation to sunstroke. Trodger laid down their muskets and turned on them.
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