‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. You know not in what dark places my life has been cast; with what crimes it has been stained. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive.
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