“My God!” he said at last, with tremendous feeling, and then again, “My God!” Now that this thing was said her mind was clear and calm. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. “Yeah. I’m that shamed to confess it, miss, but it were then I thought of Martha.
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