Martin came to the door, looking radiant and relieved. ’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. She munched her bland Whopper as he wolfed three in a row, stuffing his mouth with half a dozen French fries at a time. At this moment, Blueskin appeared with the lamp, and revealed a horrible spectacle,—the floor deluged with blood,—various articles of furniture upset,—papers scattered about,—the murdered man's cloak, trampled upon, and smeared with gore,—his hat, crushed and similarly stained,—his sword,—the ensanguined cloth,—with several other ghastly evidences of the slaughterous deed.
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