The massive door was unlocked, and they entered the cell. A town called Foster. She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. When he returned, it was always the same. “What nonsense is this? What raving! My dear child, you DO live, you DO exist! You have this home. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son.
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