"Your audacity passes belief," cried the latter, as soon as his surprise would allow him utterance. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. ‘Well?’ she said. The cell in which she was confined was about six feet long and four wide; the walls were scored all over with fantastic designs, snatches of poetry, short sentences and names,—the work of its former occupants, and of its present inmate. Even after this woman had gone, it seemed to Ruth that the room was kindlier than it had ever been.
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