’ *** Martha sniffed dolefully, scrubbing at her reddened eyes with a large square of damp linen. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. The door to the library burst open. . "How are you off there, Shoplatch?" inquired Kneebone. The title had formerly been held by Gianfrancesco’s brother, Alessia, now dead of plague.
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