\" He panted, wiping sweat off of his brow with a towel. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. E. The blood will rest on your head. He never asked questions; he never addressed his companions; and frequently he took off his cap and wiped his forehead. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. There was already a score or more of people there, some standing up and talking together, others seated in chairs ranged along the wall.
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