She was silent. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. She was surprised and stared at him when he did not immediately leave the bed as Gianfrancesco always did, but instead rested on his elbows. ’ The dagger was in her hand. " Ruth slightly brushed the withered cheek.
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