From head to foot he was attired in the fashionable garb of the young man of the moment. ‘But who was he, Gerald?’ ‘A damned condottiere,’ exploded Gerald, forgetting his company. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. " "Who is he?" asked Thames impatiently.
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