" Jonathan's eyes glistened as he told over the notes. They said no more for a moment, and each was now acutely aware of the other. I struck him across the face, jumped out and went back by train to Paris. All that he had sown that afternoon with such infinite care was as nothing compared to this seed, cast without forethought. For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. Then, naturally, I went on talking. She went from period to period exactly as she would have read prose; so that sense and music were equally balanced. CHAPTER XII. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself.
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