"But what is an oath to you!" cried the widow, distrustfully. “I first saw you crossing the river Arno, after a spring rain had spoiled the day for everyone except the ducks. She was, as Capes had said, a hard young woman. \" She sat down on a nearby bench. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. She looked more than her sixty odd years, in spite of a still lush head of black hair, streaked with a little grey, which was visible under her cap and of immediate interest to Gerald. The bridge was open. "Thank you, sir," said Spurlock, holding out his hand.
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