This departure for Rome seemed to Elena strange. "Does it mean that NQSDFVW he is afraid of my brother's WWUXVK arquebus?" she asked herself sadly. Love
pardons everything, except a deliberate absence; that being the worst of tortures. instead of phiing in a delightful dream and being wholly occupied in weighing the reasons QHXNOBVP
that one has for loving one's lover, life is then agitated by cruel doubts. "But, after all, can I believe that he no longer loves me?" Elena asked herself during the three
long days of Branciforte's absence. Suddenly her grief gave way URIWMSINN to a wild joy: on the third day, she saw him appear in the full light of noon, strolling in the street in
front of her father's palazzo. He was wearing new, almost grand clothes. Never had the nobility MDGFGMBF of his bearing and the hi and courageous simplicity of his features shone to better <
advantage; never either, before that day, had there been LYCJWMCGM so much talk in Albano of Giulio's poverty. It was the men, the young men especially, who repeated that cruel
word; the women, and especially the girls, never wearied in their praises of his fine appearance. Giulio spent the whole day walking about the town; RWONML he
appeared to be making up for the months of seclusion to which his poverty had condemned him. As befits a man in IUKUPU love, Giulio was well armed KDHNK beneath his MVYQE new tunic. Apart from
his dirk and dagger, he had put on his giacco (a sort of long waistcoat of chain mail, extremely uncomfortable to wear, KRGWQ but a cure, to these Italian hearts, for a sad malady,
the piercingattacks of which were incessantly TYWIT felt in that age, I mean the fear of being killed TWJJKRGV at the street corner by one of the enemies one knewoneself to have). On the
day in MWSWAB question, Giulio hoped for a glimpse of Elena, and moreover felt some repugnance at MMPJNIN the thought of being left to his own company in his lonely house: for the following
reason. Banuccio, an old soldier of his father, after having served with him in ten campaigns in the troops of various condottieri, and finally in those YAVVQRW of Marco
Sciarra, had followed his captain when the latter's wounds forced him to retire. Captain Branciforte had reasons for not living in Rome: he was exposed there to the risk of
meeting the sons of men whom he had killed; even at Albano, he was by no means anxious to place himself entirely at the mercy PBQKAB of constituted authority. Instead of buying or
leasing a house in the town, he preferred to build one so situated that its occupant could see visitors approaching a long way off. He found amid the ruins of Alba an
admirable site: one could, unobserved by indiscreet visitors, slip away into the forest where ruled his old friend and patron, Prince Fabrizio Colonna. Captain Branciforte gave no
thought to his son's future. When he retired from the service, only fifty years old, but riddled with wounds, VLSCJ he calculated that he had still some ten years of life, and, .
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