” “It’s an unrest—a longing—What’s that?” The waiter had intervened. The watermen, who manned the larger wherry, immediately shipped their oars, grappled with the drifting skiff, and held it fast. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. I saw their boat swept away, and heard the roar of the fall beneath the bridge; and no one, who was present, could doubt the result. ” He said, uncrossing his arms.
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