His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. “I’m so glad my Mom’s letting me go out tonight. At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?” “Why not?” he answered. The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. But, perhaps Mr. " But Spurlock put up his guard. “Yes, I remember you now.
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