She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. I never could. Most of them didn’t, anyhow. ‘Pitiful.
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