Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. His face was much handsomer than Gianfrancesco’s, his lips thinner, his brow much more noble and wise. Clothes. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis.
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