Her name, he said, was as pretty as its wearer. ” He grabbed a sword from the wall of arms. Lucy was sent reeling into a stone wall, which she hit with a great thud. "That man should have been an Italian bravo," murmured the knight, sinking into a chair: "he has neither fear nor compunction. He came as an agreeable diversion from an insoluble perplexity. "I had to give in to him. All her tender lures, inherent and acquired, had shattered themselves futilely against the reserve he had set between them.
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