He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. ’ ‘But you managed to escape nevertheless,’ Gerald said calmly, ‘disguising yourself as a nun. “I don’t think our engagement can go on,” she plunged, and felt exactly that loss of breath that comes with a dive into icy water.
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