I had not the time to formulate the decoctions that would have saved him— they take weeks to create and must come from your own blood! You were perilously close to death, and had I not watched you constantly for the week you were unconscious they would have buried you alive! Gianfrancesco was ready to give up after two days, 172 ready to throw you in the plague cart! Of course he had no use for you after bearing witness to the loss of your womanly organs. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. He murmured his delight, and joined the bridge party, where he played with less than his accustomed skill. A ragged gray moustache drooped from the corners of his mouth and a ragged wisp of whisker hung from his chin. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. It was not that the servants could not, they simply preferred to. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad.
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