You are a sisterless man; you have never heard the ordinary talk that goes on at a girls’ boarding-school. That will be a fine day—it will have to be, when first you set eyes on Italy. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. The hand that had been clenched lay open, relaxed; and upon the palm he saw her mother's locket. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself.
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