She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. Mrs. ” His face darkened. He was not sure that the boy had put himself beyond the pale; merely, the boy's actions pointed that way. He kissed her fingers and grinned. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her.
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