The Duke's Prize; a Story of Art and Heart in Florence by Maturin Murray Ballou
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page 13 of 249 (05%)
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"In one respect-yes." "And that is--" "Never was one so loved as thou art; and yet who could look upon those eyes, and hear thee speak thus, and know the goodness and gentleness of thy kind heart, and not love thee, Florinda?" "Ah, flatterer!" "Dost thou mean that?" said Carlton, earnestly and quickly. "Nay, forgive me, Carlton," said his fair companion. "Always but when thou shalt question my sincerity; and yet," he continued, after a moment's pause, "there are ample grounds for such suspicions." "Say not so, Carlton." "Behold thy large fortune; am I not penniless?-thy noble birth; am I not an humble citizen? O, Florinda, there are few in this cold and mercenary world that would accord to me, under these circumstances, the meed of sincerity." "There is one who will never doubt thee," said the lovely girl, placing a hand affectionately within his. "Dear Florinda, I have thought of another tie to bind us to each |
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