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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"The Heart of Rome"

She meant every word she said, and more too, but she had
thought out the little speech while she was dressing, for she had
guessed what must be happening in the study. Malipieri fixed his eyes
on hers gratefully, but did not find an answer at once.
"Will you remember?" she repeated.
"I shall never forget," he answered, not quite steadily,
By one of those miracles which are the birthright of certain women,
she had made her dress look almost fresh again. The fawn-coloured hat
was restored to its shape, or nearly. The mud that had soiled her
skirt had dried and she had brushed it away, though it had left faint
spots on the cloth, here and there; pins hid the little rents so
cleverly that only a woman's eye could have detected anything wrong,
and the russet shoes were tolerably presentable. The Baroness saw
traces of the adventure to which the costume had been exposed, but
Volterra smiled and was less inclined than ever to believe the story
which both had told, though he did not say so.
"My wife and I," he said cordially, "quite understand what has
happened, and no one shall ever know about it, unless you speak of it
yourself. She will go home with you now, and will then take you to the
Russian Embassy to see your mother."
Sabina looked at him in surprise, for she had expected a disagreeable
scene.


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