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Crawford, F. Marion (Francis Marion), 1854-1909

"Marietta A Maid of Venice"

"
"Is she very ugly?" asked Loredan. "Poor Jacopo! You have the sympathy
of the brethren."
"How does he know?" sneered Mocenigo. "He has never seen her. Besides,
why should he care, since she is rich?"
"You are mistaken, for I have seen her," said Contarini, looking down
the table. "She is not at all ill-looking, I assure you. The old man was
so much afraid that I would not agree to the match that he took her to
church so that I might look at her."
"And you did?" asked Mocenigo. "I should never have had the courage. She
might have been hideous, and in that case I should have preferred not to
find it out till I was married."
"I looked at her with some interest," said Contarini, smiling in a
self-satisfied way. "I am bound to say, with all modesty, that she also
looked at me," he added, passing his white hand over his thick hair.
"Of course," put in Foscari gravely. "Any woman would, I should think."
"I suppose so," answered Contarini complacently. "It is not my fault if
they do."
"Nor your misfortune," added Fosoari, with as much gravity as before.
Zuan Venier had not joined in the banter, which seemed to him to be of
the most atrocious taste. He had liked Zorzi and had just made up his
mind to go to Murano the next day and find him out.


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