Gianfrancesco took her that night gently, for which she was glad. All emotions laid hold of him, but none could he stay long enough to analyze it. She held out her arms to him and smiled. The vast heap of rubbish on the floor had been so materially increased by the bricks and plaster thrown down in his attack upon the wall of the Red Room, that it was with some difficulty he could find the blanket which was almost buried beneath the pile. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least.
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