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“Excuses! Excuses!” Vincente Gorizia exclaimed. “It is surprising, Florencia, that you don’t run out of them!” She did not reply to him, but merely looked unhappy and Lord Mere found himself instinctively wanting to strike the young man for upsetting anything as lovely as the girl who stood by him. It was impossible for him to say anything, but, as if what he was feeling transmitted itself to the Italian, Vincente said rudely, “I suppose, like all your race, my Lord, you have come to Florence looking for what you can take back to your own country. I am sure that you will not be disappointed. There are quite a number of people ready to sell their birthright for a few golden guineas!” He spoke contemptuously in a way that was like a challenge and Lord Mere was aware that Florencia seemed