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Sabatini, Rafael, 1875-1950

"The Strolling Saint; being the confessions of the high and mighty Agostino D'Anguissola, tyrant of Mondolfo and Lord of Carmina in the state of Piacenza"


And whilst, breathless with parted lips and galloping bosom, she observed
me, something near akin to terror in her eyes, I stamped about that room
and raved and heaped abuse and recriminations upon myself, ending by going
down upon my knees to her, imploring her forgiveness for the thing I had
done--believing like a fatuous fool that it was all my doing--and imploring
her still more passionately to leave me and to go.
She set a trembling hand upon my head; she took my chin in the other, and
raised my face until she could look into it.
"If it be your will--if it will bring you peace and happiness, I will leave
you now and never see you more. But are you not deluded, my Agostino?"
And then, as if her self-control gave way, she fell to weeping.
"And what of me if you go? What of me wedded to that monster, to that
cruel and inhuman pedant who tortures and insults me as you have seen?"
"Beloved, will another wrong cure the wrong of that?" I pleaded. "0, if
you love me, go--go, leave me. It is too late--too late!"
I drew away from her touch, and crossed the room to fling myself upon the
window-seat. For a space we sat apart thus, panting like wrestlers who
have flung away from each other. At length--"Listen, Giuliana," I said
more calmly. "Were I to heed you, were I to obey my own desires, I should
bid you come away with me from this to-morrow.


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