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Updated: June 1, 2025
"If I can give a proof of it, I am ready to answer," said Merthyr, in some surprise. "Your whole life is the proof of it. The women of your country are intolerable to me, Merthyr: but I do see the worth of the men. Sandra has taught me.
Merthyr, you dear Englishman, you shall know everything. Do we not think a tisane a weak washy drink, when we are strong? But we learn, when we lie with our chins up, and our ten toes like stopped organ-pipes as Sandra says we learn then that it means fresh health and activity, and is better than rivers of your fiery wines. You love her, do you not?" The question came with great simplicity.
He wrote to the Countess Alessandra such a letter! a curiosity! he must see her and cross- examine her to satisfy himself that she was a true patriot, &c. You know the style: we neither of us like it. Sandra was waiting to receive him when they pounced on him by the door. Next day the woman struck at her. Decidedly a handsome woman.
"O my God, my God!" the queen kept repeating in her grief: her arms fell by her side, like the arms of a statue weeping by a tomb. "Listen, Dona Sandra. I know that your heart has never clung to earthly vanities, and that you only wait till God has called me to Himself to withdraw to the convent of Santa Maria delta Croce, founded by yourself in the hope that you might there end your days.
Then all of them looked through the bow windows, and what they saw told the story in an instant. "It's visible! See the invisibility's gone!" cried Friday. A score of miles away the body lay, fully revealed, its starboard half gleaming hard and sharp in the sunlight. Cautiously the Sandra drew closer.
Leithgow smiled gently in answer, then left the cabin for the sleep he needed so badly. Hawk Carse was left alone on watch in the fleeing Sandra. A lonely, intent figure, he stood over the chart-table, working out their best course to Earth. Presently, however, he went back to the infra-red electelscope and swept it over the leagues behind.
You will sing to please my sister, Sandra mia, will you not?" Vittoria shook her head.
Sandra, floating from the particular to the universal, lay back in a trance. Duggan will write to me for ever, and I shall answer her letters." He was standing in the Square with a book under his arm looking vacantly about him. That he was heavily built and might become stout in time was a fact. But she suspected him of being a mere bumpkin.
Then there was a perfect stillness, succeeding the strife as quickly, Vittoria thought, as a breath yielded succeeds a breath taken. She accused the heavens of injustice. Pericles, prostrate on the floor, moaned that he was wounded. She said, "Bleed to death!" "It is my soul, it is my soul is wounded for you, Sandra." "Dreadful craven man!" she muttered.
Sandra Belloni! no rival, I say" he invoked her in English, "and you hear you, to be a draggle-tail vivandiere wiz a brandy-bottle at your hips and a reputation going like ze brandy. Ah! pardon, mesdames; but did mankind ever see a frenzy like this girl's? Speak, Sandra. I could cry it like Michiella to Camilla Speak!" Vittoria compelled him to despatch his horses to stables.
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