She spent many days in the castle alone as he busied himself with his alchemy, or traveled to Florence to visit his remaining political connections. It is dull—deadly dull. Mother and Son XI. ‘Still, the comtesse has them well in hand. With a finger crooked in his side-pocket, she measured her step with his, her senses still dizzy from the echo of the magic sounds. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. You fell in at once with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure. I had not seen the courtyard in many years and I was happy to dream of those times.
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