The stranger with a bow returned to his table. “You love some one else?” he repeated. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. ‘You had better kill me, mademoiselle, because otherwise I shall end by strangling you. Part 3 Later they loitered along a winding path above the inn, and made love to one another. "What's the matter?" he cried. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son.
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