A stack of chimneys, on the house above them, had yielded to the storm, and descended in a shower of bricks and stones. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. Better come another morning. “I just wanted you to see that the time will come when I must leave you, and the time is coming soon. Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. A message was dispatched from Florence that she was to again receive her future husband.
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