They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying. “Please, Michelle, let’s not fight. "I'm afraid, Jack, you'll come to the gallows," observed the smith; "buth if you do, I'll go to Tyburn to see you. All his interest in Ruth, all his care and solicitude, could now be translated into a single word—love. I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. Thames, you needn't tidy yourself, as you've hurt your arm.
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