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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"

Seeing me she smiled timidly, and her smile gave me what little
further encouragement I needed. I approached, and very earnestly rendered
her my thanks for having championed my cause and supported me with the
express sign of her approval.
She lowered her eyes; her bosom quickened slightly, and the colour ebbed
and flowed in her cheeks.
"You should not thank me," said she. "What I did was done for justice's
sake."
"I have been presumptuous," I answered humbly, "in conceiving that it might
have been for the sake of me."
"But it was that also," she answered quickly, fearing perhaps that she had
pained me. "It offended me that the Duke should attempt to browbeat you.
I took pride in you to see you bear yourself so well and return thrust for
thrust."
"I think your presence must have heartened me," said I. "No pain could be
so cruel as to seem base or craven in your eyes."
Again the tell-tale colour showed upon her lovely cheek. She began to pace
slowly down the gallery, and I beside her. Presently she spoke again.
"And yet," she said, " I would have you cautious. Do not wantonly affront
the Duke, for he is very powerful."
"I have little left to lose," said I.
"You have your life," said she.
"A life which I have so much misused that it must ever cry out to me in
reproach.


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