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. It was a moment before he recognised that the effect had been similar on all those present, including General Lord Charvill. ‘Oh, peste. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. "Neither man nor woman shall apply that term to me.
Video ID: TW96aWxsYS81LjAgQXBwbGVXZWJLaXQvNTM3LjM2IChLSFRNTCwgbGlrZSBHZWNrbzsgY29tcGF0aWJsZTsgQ2xhdWRlQm90LzEuMDsgK2NsYXVkZWJvdEBhbnRocm9waWMuY29tKSAtIDE4LjIyMy4xMjUuOTYgLSAxMC0wNi0yMDI0IDAwOjI3OjM5IC0gMTIzNTg1NTczMQ==
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