He drew a little breath and stepped back. ‘And I’d like to know what the devil—’ ‘Out of town?’ repeated Melusine, stupefied. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. " "Heaven have compassion on you, Rowland!" murmured his sister, crossing her hands and looking upwards; "you have none on me. I was once a disciple of Saint Peter myself, and speak from experience. "I yield to fate.
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