He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. She spoke slowly. Treasure caves to explore! All through these trying days she had recurrently wondered what this strange young man would have to say that Dickens and Hugo had not already said. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. "You know what I mean," said the trader, gravely.
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