Her white shirt was mired with a central bloodstain, his pants caked with mud. “Women should understand men’s affairs, perhaps,” said Miss Garvice, “but to mingle in them is just to sacrifice that power of influencing they can exercise now. A boy no older than she, Gianfrancesco’s cousin, whispered what he would like to do to her when she stole into the hallways near the women’s chambers to fix herself. "I would sacrifice all my fortune—all my hopes —to liberate him. "I can't hold it much longer—it'll break my wrist. The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. " "Have you seen him?" asked Trenchard.
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