" "For procuring my imprisonment?" "For saving your life. It was not for a week or a month. 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. “But was it wise to sing to-night?” “Why not? The man was nothing to me. Forgive me?” She pleaded.
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