” “It’s impossible. You see, the horse it does not belong to me, nor to the nuns. She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. Wood was heard without, angrily demanding admittance. You shall know the truth. And girls and women, perhaps, are different. I must tell somebody—and you would understand. Something seemed to dredge up from the recesses of her memory and she brightened.
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