She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Gianfrancesco’s had curved differently and was darker. " In stepping across the room, some sharp point in the floor pierced his foot, and stooping to examine it, he found that the wound had been inflicted by a long rusty nail, which projected from the boards. She longed to allow him to kiss her again, to touch her again. “I have the right of the man who loves you,” he declared.
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