’ ‘Oui, mais—safe. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. Ann Veronica forgot him as soon as she was through the gate, and her face resumed its expression of stern preoccupation. This was his sister, evidently in the last extremity. She had made a bed for herself out of wood and furs. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise.
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