I spent agonizing weeks wandering Mantua in search of you, finally arriving at the idea of asking someone who you were. "Come on, my lads!" vociferated Blueskin, "we'll unkennel the old fox. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude.
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