Vendetta: A Story of One Forgotten: Large print
by Marie Corelli
2020-05-26 04:50:18
Vendetta: A Story of One Forgotten: Large print
by Marie Corelli
2020-05-26 04:50:18
I, who write this, am a dead man. Dead legally-dead by absolute proofs-dead and buried! Ask forme in my native city and they will tell you I was oneof the victims of the cholera that ravaged Naples in1884, and that my mortal remains lie moldering int...
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I, who write this, am a dead man. Dead legally-dead by absolute proofs-dead and buried! Ask forme in my native city and they will tell you I was oneof the victims of the cholera that ravaged Naples in1884, and that my mortal remains lie moldering inthe funeral vault of my ancestors. Yet-I live! I feelthe warm blood coursing through my veins-theblood of thirty summers-the prime of earlymanhood invigorates me, and makes these eyes ofmine keen and bright-these muscles strong asiron-this hand powerful of grip-this well-knitform erect and proud of bearing. Yes!-I am alive,though declared to be dead; alive in the fullness ofmanly force-and even sorrow has left fewdistinguishing marks upon me, save one. My hair,once ebony-black, is white as a wreath of Alpinesnow, though its clustering curls are thick as ever.A constitutional inheritance? asks one physician,observing my frosted locks.A sudden shock? suggests another.Exposure to intense heat? hints a third.
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