Only her ungloved fingers, and the arms in their long tight sleeves as she held the heavy gun aloft, bore any sign of stiffness. '—'No fear o' that,' thought I. So often as she had herself manipulated a dagger, she could not mistake the shape that pressured across her chest, or the sharp point that dug below her bosom. She had fled back to Florence quite intent on slitting the new bride’s throat. I spent this afternoon in detention. Men fled from their tottering habitations, and returned to them scared by greater dangers. She entered the kitchen. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. It was long and narrow, a well-lit, wellventilated, quiet gallery of small tables and sinks, pervaded by a thin smell of methylated spirit and of a mitigated and sterilized organic decay.
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