Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. You seemed, he thought, to have some grievance which you would not explain and which he thought must arise from a misunderstanding. A minute pressure inwards showed him that it was not locked. He took her fingers and lifted his eyes to hers. They were terrible, horrible people. She went to market every day to fetch the daily bread and more herbs for more medicines and potions, plus treats for the apprentices made of honey and almond paste. “I love some one else.
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