Instead her point disengaged, dropped, and then the sword came up again and banged, flatbladed, onto Gosse’s wrist with such force that his own blade dropped from his grasp. She was dressed for the street very much as her own maid was accustomed to dress, and there was a thick veil attached to her hat. Oddly, he was seldom angry with her as Gianfrancesco would have been. This salute of his—actually the first she could remember—while it did not disturb her, began to lead her thoughts into new channels of speculation. ” “It seems so—so unworthy”—she picked among her phrases “of the noble love you give—” She stopped, through the difficulty she found in expressing herself. She heard the bamboo curtain rattle slightly.
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