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A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband. She dropped on her knees by his side, and gently unbuttoned his waistcoat. “I am going through the other rooms. I hated him. Where is Father Spencer? I must have absolution. You see, I’m separated from my wife. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. He had an objective now. He had already spoken his mind on the folly of allowing a clearly dangerous female to escape a second time. .
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