At first she thought he was endeavouring to rid himself of the fleas, but after a time she came to understand that the muck had healing qualities and soothed the burning scratches made by his claws. See!" she added, tearing the rag from her head,—"I had beautiful black hair once. How you dress when you're loafing will be no concern of mine; but fresh twill or Shantung, when you dine with me, collar and tie. “Look at me. So I ran away, blindly, knowing nothing of the world outside. I'm sorry. She didn’t trust Gianfrancesco, you know, she called him a ‘bad husband’. ‘Well, I can see you won’t let it alone, so what do you propose to do about the wench?’ ‘I’ll die before I let it alone,’ Gerald vowed.
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