"I say," retorted Edgeworth Bess, with a very unfeminine imprecation, "I shan't stand any more of that nonsense. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. “No, I must have had hope lurking somewhere too. John, he was between me and the door. This he accomplished by holding the chain that connected them firmly between his teeth, and squeezing his fingers as closely together as possible, succeeded in drawing his wrists through the manacles. They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. So he marched into the street, primarily bent upon making the favourable discovery. ‘You didn’t understand it any better than I. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived.
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