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She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Coming from the gloom of the passage, even the corridors seemed sufficiently illuminated for them to see their way. "Take this key to Baptist Kettleby. ‘If, in truth, you are a gentleman,’ she said in a trembling tone, ‘you will move to the side that I may leave this room.
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