The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. The light of memory flashed in the man’s face. Gianfrancesco was not ugly, in fact, perhaps he was rather handsome after all. He stood up, apparently intending to put an arm about her, but she stepped back from him quickly. But, as he made no answer, he was removed. She felt him as something solid and strong and trustworthy beyond measure.
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