I would be the kidnapper, of course, but we would forge ransom notes and exchange monies so that it appeared you were taken by brigands or plotters against the Iovelli family. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. These daughters! He gnawed his pen and reflected, tore the sheet up, and began again. Hoddy! All her fears fell away. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. The ink, contained in a grimy bottle unearthed in the outhouse, was old, and made blotches as soon as it touched the paper.
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