The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. Yet she could not bring herself to hate the girl, or even Gianfrancesco, the one who would have sent her to her death more than once. But, by Jove! you are fierce! You are like those Roman women who carry stilettos in their hair. The release was so great that she felt tears spring from her eyes. I should like to have had you forgive me. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard.
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