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"Forgive me—oh, forgive me!" "Forgive you—bless you!" she gasped. She enjoyed preparing the evening meals, the smells of potatoes roasting in the oven, the stink of onions in the pan, the crackle of chicken frying. . Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. “I am not dependent upon any one. Here we are absconding, pretending to be what we are not; shady, to say the least of it.
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