Will you please—Not now, or I must go. He was braver than her husband, who paced and cowered in the corners of the once-sunny Palazzo. So, in broken, rather breathless phrases, he told his story; and when he had done, he laid his arms upon the table and bent his head to them. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster.
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