"Dead!" echoed the boy. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. His sword done with, he took up the bludgeon; balanced it in his hand; upon the points of his fingers; and let it fall with a smash, intentionally, upon the table. The family always managed to make it home for supper, even though it was a dying custom.
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