Would you ask me for opium then?
Would you? Or perhaps--for death? No,
pussy, we have no right to die for our personal
convenience. We may spit and s-swear a bit, if
it consoles us; but we mustn't pull the paw away."
"Hush!" She took the cat off his knee and
put it down on a footstool. "You and I will
have time for thinking about those things later
on. What we have to think of now is how to get
Domenichino out of his difficulty. What is it,
Katie; a visitor? I am busy."
"Miss Wright has sent you this, ma'am, by
hand."
The packet, which was carefully sealed, contained
a letter, addressed to Miss Wright, but
unopened and with a Papal stamp. Gemma's
old school friends still lived in Florence, and
her more important letters were often received,
for safety, at their address.
"It is Michele's mark," she said, glancing
quickly over the letter, which seemed to be about
the summer-terms at a boarding house in the
Apennines, and pointing to two little blots on a
corner of the page.
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