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A moment later she resolutely put the comparison out of her mind, and finding that her husband was inclined to abuse the Saracinesca, she tried to turn the conversation. "I suppose it will be a great ball at the Frangipani's," she said. "We will go, of course?" she added, interrogatively. "Of course. I would not miss it for all the world. There has not been such a ball for years as that will be.
Frangipani's father had already half-agreed to the match, and what remained to be done involved only a question of financial details. As he sat waiting for Faustina a great horror of death rose suddenly and clearly before him. He was not a very old man and he would have found it hard to account for the sensation.
He spoke of my marriage, which he has been contemplating some time. I answered that I would not marry Prince Frangipani's son, because " she hesitated. "Because?" "Because I love another man," she continued almost defiantly. "A man who is not a prince but an artist." A murmur of horror ran round the little group of the girl's relations. She glanced at them scornfully.
A great vase with one of Frangipani's favourite plants in it had been badly propped, and had fallen right through the glass, outward." "It is strange," said Corona. "I was almost sure I heard a groan." "It was the wind. The glass was broken, and it is a stormy night." "That was just the way that window fell in five years ago," said Corona. "Something always happens here.
"Don Giovanni Saracinesca." "But I must have some clue to what your ideas are," said the Cardinal. "When did Don Giovanni say that?" "At Prince Frangipani's. He had been talking with your Eminence perhaps he had come to some conclusion in consequence," suggested Gouache. "Perhaps so," answered the great man, with a look of considerable satisfaction.
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