Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders. I knew where I would go next: Florence. One might have said that these trees grieved for their native soil; and, grieving, refused to bear. I, too, want to understand—to walk with my head in the light. That is not reasonable. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. That knot also would be cut. ‘Exactement. Such was his fury, that if he had not been restrained by the presence of the two turnkeys, he might perhaps have anticipated the course of justice, by laying violent hands upon his victim. —I'll soon find you out.
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