“I came to London unexpectedly, and my friends could not take me in. It ran in rivulets down her face, penetrating her hood and the thick quilting of her coat. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features. Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. "You are all right?"—anxiously. I followed, taking up hunting so that way I could track you, to make sure you would become well again. Their expression was so amiable, that it would have redeemed a countenance a thousand times plainer than hers.
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