And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. ‘She’s an eviltempered little termagant, yes, but there’s no malice aforethought. She slept in a bedroom clad in linens and skins, walked down hallways bedecked in the most gay and colorful frescos. Still keeping ahead of his pursuers, he ran along the direct road, till the houses disappeared and he got into the open country.
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