Father had traveled to Florence to the Mercato Nuovo, staying away for a half year at a time paying court to the house of the silk merchant Iovelli, which was patronized by none other than the Medicis. The colour slowly left her cheeks, the lines of her mouth hardened. No doubt they've all been rejected; but he couldn't throw them overboard. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. "We've heard coming and going. ‘I am not a fool.
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