An envoy from the Palace has been and I have sent him away." "You mean to keep your word, then ?" "Have I ever broken it?
Never again will I sing in this City.

It is so." Bellamy looked around.

The garden of the villa was enclosed by high gray stone walls.

They were secure here, at least, from eavesdroppers.

She rested her fingers lightly upon his arm, holding up the skirts of her loose gown with her other hand.
"I have spoken to you," he said, "of Dorward, the American journalist." She nodded.
"Of course," she assented.