When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. Leonardo had taught her pretty well everything she could have need to know, when they had talked long at his bedside. CHAPTER XXVI. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. He would know the truth then once and for all. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror.
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