. She mewed weakly, “Sebastian? What have you done? Where is Gianfrancesco? Did you kill him?” He crossed his arms. "But to drag this innocent child into the muck! With her head full of book nonsense—love stories and fairy stories! Have you any idea of the tragedy she is bound to stumble upon some day? I don't care about you. Ah! but you can’t imagine what you are to me and what you mean to me! I suppose there is something mystical and wonderful about all women. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. They will say that it was murder.
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