He had been on the point of leaving the restaurant. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. "If Jack would come to my house, I'd contrive to hide him," remarked a buxom dame. He let go of the girl’s arm. News was sent back home, and in October, Marina traveled to Florence to live with her daughter again. You can trust me, Anna.
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