” “Isn’t it enough that I love you? Turn me now. ” He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the embodiment of blond serenity. Gianfrancesco ran from the room, tearing at his hair. A dog appeared unexpectedly upon the threshold. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. ‘You will take the place of André?’ ‘Exactly so. He shook his head all the time.
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