“I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. “I’m not nearly so sure as you. Anna, I listened to all that he had to say, and I called to him to let me get out. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. Jack instantly sprang to his feet, and as his guards construed the motion into an attempt to escape, several of them drew their swords and motioned to him to sit down. I'll lay my life he's gone. ‘I’m only a poor country wench, child. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them.
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