She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. “For no other reason than you talk too much. Surely she could ignore him. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. Firmly built, as it was, the bridge creaked in such a manner with their contending efforts, that Abraham durst not venture beyond the door, where he stood, holding the light, a horrified spectator of the scene. She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. The next moment his grasp relaxed, and he sank to rise no more. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers.
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