And afterward her mother and Alice kissed long and clung to each other. You cannot refuse me this. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. Wet as he was, he felt if he lay down in the grass, he should perish with cold; while, if he sought a night's lodging in any asylum, his dress, stained with blood and covered with dirt, would infallibly cause him to be secured and delivered into the hands of justice.
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