Because Leonardo, he made me see that I can be someone. At half after five that afternoon the doctor and his friend McClintock entered the office of the Victoria. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection. Gifts came from Florence: rubies and emeralds, a beautiful statue of Santa Maria for their garden grotto, a gorgeous silk tapestry of a hunting scene that alone made the price of her dowry look paltry. “You were born for great things,” he said huskily.
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