"Well, I'm glad she's spared this. There wasn’t, I know, between myself and my father. He was followed with equal celerity by Terence and the widow. Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. Nothing, in short, portable or valuable was left. Her father, Bartolomeo, was a well-respected member of the Arte di Calimala: the Wool Makers Guild in Mantua. She didn’t know anything more about your mom. “Very much as usual,” said Ramage.
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