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CHAPTER XXVIII. It seemed to her that it was her duty to get up and clamor to go home to her room, to protest against his advances as an insult. She saw her discarded nun’s habit still on the floor and scooped it up. Gianfrancesco had been talked into the arrangement only because the drivers that had handled the job for generations were sick or dead. “My charm of manner, I suppose. She looked at her flattened belly. "All's over," muttered Jonathan.
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