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Updated: May 2, 2025
"Ah, but what voices you must have heard in Italy," said Emilia softly. "I am afraid to sing after them. Si: I dare not." She panted, little in keeping with the cajolery of her tones, but she had got Mr. Pericles upon a theme serious to his mind. "Not a voice! not one!" he cried, stamping his foot. "All is French. I go twice wizin six monz, and if I go to a goose-yard I hear better.
There they sat, all three; and as for Alfred, to use a proverb that will describe his position, we may say that he sat like the friar in the goose-yard. The magic of form had enchanted him.
"Ah, but what voices you must have heard in Italy," said Emilia softly. "I am afraid to sing after them. Si: I dare not." She panted, little in keeping with the cajolery of her tones, but she had got Mr. Pericles upon a theme serious to his mind. "Not a voice! not one!" he cried, stamping his foot. "All is French. I go twice wizin six monz, and if I go to a goose-yard I hear better.
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