“You, too,” he said abruptly. ” Ann Veronica gave him a pallid profile. I had not the time to formulate the decoctions that would have saved him— they take weeks to create and must come from your own blood! You were perilously close to death, and had I not watched you constantly for the week you were unconscious they would have buried you alive! Gianfrancesco was ready to give up after two days, 172 ready to throw you in the plague cart! Of course he had no use for you after bearing witness to the loss of your womanly organs. Did he not look for her in the morning when she entered—come very quickly to her? She thought of him as she had last seen him looking down the length of the laboratory to see her go. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. He was never drunk in the accepted meaning of the word; rather he walked in a kind of stupefaction. I was grateful.
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