Suddenly he came to a stop, his mouth agape. The two young fools laughed until they cried. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. I've left mine on the spikes of the New Prison, and must borrow yours. Martin’s eyes seemed about to pop out of his head. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island.
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