. Scarcely had it come to a halt, when a stalwart man shouldered his way, in spite of their opposition, through the lines of soldiery to the cart, and offered his large horny hand to the prisoner. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him. "Unless you have eaten a Syrian orange," he was always saying, "you have only a rudimentary idea of what an orange is. The air was sweet with the smoky perfume of myrrh, hazy and dense with incense. “Stop! Stop telling me these things at once! We should stay in the Palazzo! I must protect my ancestral home!” Gianfrancesco exclaimed. I——” Then he stopped short, for he began to remember things. A stout wooden shutter, opening inwardly, being removed, disclosed a grating of iron bars. She stood 218 there, broken bottle still in hand. There's our young friend upstairs.
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