The locket contained the face of her mother—all the family album she had. . Spare him!—pity me!" With this she arose, and, taking up the infant, was about to proceed down stairs, when she was alarmed by hearing the street-door opened, and the sound of heavy footsteps entering the house. "Kiss me. I quickly ingratiated myself to Gianfrancesco, playing on his insecurities, drawing from his need for more and more power. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands.
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