She drew it out with shaking fingers. ‘He arst me to find him someone who might go with you. May I ask the nature of your interest in her?” He hesitated. The few pence left in her purse would only provide a very scanty lunch. "But you are a good man, and you'll understand. ‘Me, I am Mademoiselle Charvill, the granddaughter of Monsieur Jar-vis Re-men-ham. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. ‘You will not guess again?’ ‘No, no, I am quite out of ideas. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. I have tried taking a little blood from various donors. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true.
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