" "Where are you going?" asked his mother. ” “Anna!” “It is true, dear. 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. ’ He sat on the low wall of the haha and invited her to do the same. "What is this?" she wanted to know. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands.
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