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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"

They clasped hands in silence, and Cavalcanti went in
person to lead his guest to his apartments.
"You have not a happy air," said Galeotto as they went. "And, Body of God!
it is no matter for marvel considering the company you keep. How long has
the Farnese beast been here?"
"His visit is now in its third week," said Cavalcanti, answering
mechanically.
Galeotto swore in sheer surprise. "By the Host! And what keeps him?"
Cavalcanti shrugged and let his arms fall to his sides. To Galeotto this
proud, stern baron seemed most oddly dispirited.
"I see that we must talk," he said. "Things are speeding well and swiftly
now," he added, dropping his voice. "But more of that presently. I have
much to tell you."
When they had reached the chamber that was Galeotto's, and the doors were
closed and Falcone was unbuckling his master's spurs--"Now for my news,"
said the condottiero. "But first, to spare me repetitions, let us have
Agostino here. Where is he?"
The look on Cavalcanti's face caused Galeotto to throw up his head like a
spirited animal that scents danger.
"Where is he?" he repeated, and old Falcone's fingers fell idle upon the
buckle on which they were engaged.
Cavalcanti's answer was a groan. He flung his long arms to the ceiling, as
if invoking Heaven's aid; then he let them fall again heavily, all strength
gone out of them.


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