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. “Who tied this scarf here?” he asked, looking up. ” She said to him as they walked past houses down the block. “And yet I do it without compunction. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. I’m behaving shockingly, I know.
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