Anna stepped back at once with a little gasp of relief. The ceiling had, in many places, given way; the laths had been removed; and, where any plaster remained, it was either mapped and blistered with damps, or festooned with dusty cobwebs. “Listen,” she said. “You go home and think of all this,” he said, “and talk about it to-morrow. Take care of the old clothesman, and leave the rest to me. They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore.
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