She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. He had a peculiar way of stepping in, in a parry; knew his arm, and its just time of moving; put a firm faith in that, and never let his opponent escape. Mirages, over which he was constantly throwing bridges which were wasted efforts, since invariably they spanned solid ground. A deep dread calm, like that which precedes a thunderstorm, now prevailed amongst the assemblage. Let me have more light, that I may behold him. Leonardo had not taught her to do so.
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