Spurling was no longer allowed to visit him; he was again loaded with irons; fastened by an enormous horse-padlock to a staple in the floor; and only allowed to take repose in a chair. She was standing before a window, against the background of the rain-burdened April sky. He caught the elderly dame’s eye, throwing her a desperate message. But her tears had been for Leonardo’s expulsion, and the loss of his companionship. ‘Oh, peste.
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