They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. “But how is it all going to end?” said Mr. Forgive me?” She pleaded. And then—this sudden thrust. “Had he better have a nurse? I will be responsible for anything of that sort. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. Before many minutes elapsed, he had picked a large hole in the plaster, which showered down in a cloud of dust; and breaking off several laths, caught hold of a beam, by which he held with one hand, until with the other he succeeded, not without some difficulty, in forcing out one of the tiles.
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