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Turnbull, Mrs. Lawrence

"A Golden Book of Venice"

And
she herself, perchance, hath less. For so hath her strange whim wrought
upon her that she knoweth naught of that which passeth around her, and
one face to her is like another."
The young Senator turned from the cruel speaker to the Doge in mute
appealing agony. The old man grasped his hand in a steadying clasp.
"Let us go to her," said Leonardo, very low, when he could command his
voice. "She is like a lovely child--resisting nothing. It is some
shock--it will pass."
* * * * *
And now there came a day when the proud heart of Venice was stirred to
its core, for a messenger dashed breathless into the Council Chamber--an
excited, protesting throng of the populace surging in through the open
door behind him. "Fra Paolo! Il caro Padre! Morto!"
"_Dead_!" They started to their feet with ready imprecations. Fra Paolo,
who had left them an hour before, with the Signor Malipiero and his
devoted secretary! They exchanged glances of terrible comprehension--the
triumph of Venice was avenged upon the faithful servant of the State!
The Consiglio broke up in confusion.


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