Occasionally the flames would bend, twist and writhe crazily as the punka-boy bestirred himself. I wanted something alive. 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. “Perhaps your engagements are made for you. What do you say to Brighton——” Anna looked at him quietly—and he never finished his sentence. “I don’t know.
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