’ ‘You didn’t care. ” “I may have to run,” said her father, with an appeal to his watch. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. ’ The shift threw Melusine’s attention off the errant major for the moment. My sister made me over, you know. However, no one had discovered me, so I contrived to drag myself to my horse. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. But it seemed that their presence was not even suspected.
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