There was the same airy grace of movement, the same deep brown hair and alabaster skin. “Have you heard things?” The tears stood in her eyes. The passage was so narrow that there was only sufficient room for the cart to pass, with a single line of foot-soldiers on one side; and, as the walls of the bridge were covered with spectators, it was not deemed prudent to cross it till these persons were dislodged. Men had tried to kiss her— unshaven derelicts, some of them terrible—but she had always managed to escape. When Gianfrancesco came to call this time, she was excited and ready.
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