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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Whosoever Shall Offend"

"
"And what am I to say to you?" Ercole asked, in a low and surly voice.
"What you will, little or much, as you please. You shall speak, and I
will listen. But we can walk on under the trees there. Then nobody can
see us."
Ercole began to go on, and Regina walked on his left side. The dog
sniffed at the hem of her long black cloak. They came under the shade of
the trees, and Ercole stopped again, and turned, facing the reflection
of the moonlight on the vast curve of the Colosseum.
"What do you want of me?" he asked. "Why do you follow me in the night?"
"When you saw that the Signore was with me to-day, you said, 'It cannot
be done.' He is not here now."
She stood quite still, looking at him.
"I understand nothing," he said, in the same surly tone as before.
"You wished to kill me to-day," she answered. "I am here. This is a good
place."
Ercole looked about him instinctively, peering into the shadows under
the trees.
"There is no one," Regina said. "This is a good place."
She had not lifted her veil, but she threw back the collar of her cloak,
and with quick fingers undid the fastenings of her dress, opening it
wide. Rays of moonlight fell through the trees upon her bosom, and it
gleamed like fine ivory newly cut.
"I wait," she said.
She stood motionless before him, expecting the knife, but her father's
hands did not move. His eyes were fixed on hers, though he could not see
them through the veil.


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