As matters now stand, I'm only a thief, not a blackguard. ” She looked at him doubtfully. It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. Oh, the scent of the flowers that day, the delicious quiet, the swallows that dived before us in the river. She walked straight across to the wardrobe and opened it.
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