“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. " So saying, he descended a short spiral staircase, and, entering a long stone gallery, from which several other passages branched, took one of them, and after various turnings—for he was familiar with all the intricacies of the prison— arrived at the cell of which he was in search. The weather harmonized with their feelings. “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. She recalled that she had heard nothing that first time when Gerald and the captain had burst in upon her. .
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