Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. ‘Peste,’ she wailed, as Emile dropped to the floor, ducking down. “The Holy Ghost! The Pope! My mother!” She squealed. “This is much the cheapest place I know of where things are moderately clean, and I should hate rooms all by myself. My will is executed, and placed in safe custody. After encountering other dangers, and being twice, compelled to fling himself flat upon his face to avoid slipping from the wet and slimy pathway, he was at length about to emerge from the lock, when, to his inexpressible horror, he found he had lost the child! All the blood in his veins rushed to his heart, and he shook in every limb as he made this discovery.
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