"I'm a peace-officer," he added, "about to arrest a notorious criminal. She held up the lamp. “Anna!” she repeated. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. ‘A word, if you please, my friend. Rubbishy novels and pernicious rascals. Something to tell you. Don't feel fussed upon my account. On the fifth day he had ventured speech with her.
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