"So I did," retorted Mrs. Could you come to tea at my rooms one afternoon, or would you dine with me somewhere, and do a theatre? We could have a private room, of course, if you do not wish to be seen about London, and a box at the theatre. Only her babe died. Her softly intertwined fingers became rigid. Keeping hold of the doorhandle, she turned slowly. Rumor in the Palazzo had it that her new doctor was a powerful archbishop from the south who conducted most of his dealings in secret.
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