She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. Oh! and love—love! We’ve had so splendid a time, and fought our fight and won. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. Coldly she spoke, in a distinctly accented voice.
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