She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. It was as though he were personally aggrieved. He took about five minutes. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. By the light of a torch borne at the stern of the hostile wherry, he saw that the pursuers had approached within a short distance of the object of their quest.
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