Gianfrancesco was a contact of mine, I had allied myself to his father before him, and unbeknownst to anyone, to his Great-great-granduncle during the time of Crusades. That was the glorious if bewildering truth. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. She approached this field with her usual liveliness of apprehension.
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