S. ‘They weren’t no soldiers. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. There was a murmur or two among the watchers on the bench, but no one ventured to intervene again. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. He moved her dress from her shoulders and off her torso.
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