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

"Taquisara"

But she smiled,
said a few words, and ordered the carriage to move on,--an operation
which, though difficult in such a narrow way, was possible since she had
improved and paved the streets. A couple of her men walked before the
horses to clear the way of the women and children and the few men who
were not away at work, for the news of the arrival had spread, and the
people flocked together to see whether the visitors would bear
comparison with their princess.
As the carriage rolled into the street, Veronica went up to meet the
next. It was a very long landau, and in it Gianluca was almost lying
down, his pale face and golden beard in strong relief against a dark
brown silk cushion. To Veronica's amazement, Taquisara sat beside him,
calmly smoking one of those long black cigars which he preferred to all
others. He threw it away, when he saw her. She shook hands frankly with
Gianluca.
"I am very glad you are here," she said kindly and cheerfully. "You will
get well here. How do you do?" she added, turning to Taquisara as
naturally as though she had expected him, for she supposed that there
must have been some misunderstanding.
He explained his coming in a few words, before Gianluca could finish the
sentence he began.
"He hates strangers," he said, "and I came up with him, to be of use on
the journey. I am going back at once."
"You will not go back this evening, at all events," answered Veronica,
with a little hospitable smile.


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