" "Ay, and there's my liver. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. Fruit trees had been brought all the way from India so their product could be laden on the wedding table, fruits with exotic shapes and haunting flavors ended the meal, cleansing the palate. . When he saw, his roars could be heard across the lagoon. \"Want your pencil back?\" She asked him warily, squinting.
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