The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. All this was the work of a minute. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. On the cords being removed, he made a desperate spring at Wild, bore him to the ground, clutched at his throat, and would, infallibly, have strangled him, if the keepers had not all thrown themselves upon him, and by main force torn him off. It was easy to discern Gianfrancesco’s mood.
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