She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. "It is your son. Ed. Don't you understand? Back among your own again, and only a few of us the wiser. Dieu du ciel! Gerald was kissing her! She struggled to be free, and the arms that held her loosened, the lips leaving hers. Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition.
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