Her mind wandered back to that fateful day. No: I must face it out. He shrieked with agony, and clung with desperate tenacity to the roughened stones. ‘Went to the dogs, did Jarvis, after Mary died. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out.
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