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 by Rafael Sabatini
page 65 of 447 (14%)
page 65 of 447 (14%)
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the discretion of the grooms whether they obey you. Am I to blame if they
turn cowards?" 0, I had found myself at last, and I was making a furious, joyous use of the discovery. "That...that were to make a mock of me and my authority," she protested. She was still rather helpless, rather breathless and confused, like one who has suddenly been hurled into cold water. "If you fear that, madam, perhaps you had better countermand your order." "Is the girl to remain in Mondolfo against my wishes? Are you so...so lost to shame?" A returning note of warmth in her accents warned me that she was collecting herself to deal with the situation. "Nay," said I, and I looked at Luisina, who stood there so pale and tearful. "I think that for her own sake, poor maid, it were better that she went, since you desire it. But she shall not be whipped hence like a stray dog." "Come, child," I said to her, as gently as I could. "Go pack, and quit this home of misery. And be easy. For if any man in Mondolfo attempts to hasten your going, he shall reckon with me." I laid a hand for an instant in kindliness and friendliness upon her shoulder. "Poor little Luisina," said I, sighing. But she shrank and trembled under my touch. "Pity me a little, for they will not permit me any friends, and who is friendless is indeed pitiful." |
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