She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. ‘You don’t know him. “It will spoil your life. Be this as it may, Jonathan remained the victor; and shortly afterwards,—at the price of a third of his estate, it was whispered,—he procured Trenchard's liberation from confinement. They were only passers-by.
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