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 about, and Simonetta shivered and slid her hand into mine. Then as we came to the foot of the garden where the high wall keeps out the river, I saw that the wall was alive with Mazzaleone's men-at-arms, and that behind each cypress stood one of the men of the Conti.

For a moment my lady stood alone by herself, while it seemed that the night waited, panting; the moonlight fell upon her and I marveled that any woman could look as sweet as she, and so happy, when a sea of blood was lapping at her very feet. It seemed strange that anything with so innocent a look could live at the core of so much hate and so much conflicting desire.

So for a second it seemed that this night stood quiet to watch her, as did the men hiding in night's darkness. I knew that Mazzaleone's men waited and that among the cypress-trees waited the men of our house, all with their eyes upon her.

Then from behind us came the whispering sound of the soft drawing of swords, and I heard the voice of Mazzaleone say:

"Quick, toward the wall!" and he stood before her while Bartolommeo and Andrea