"I suppose I was mistaken," returned Gay. ” She looked at him wistfully, but with some unwilling doubt in her wrinkled forehead. Below it a prodigiously large bolt was shot into the socket, and, in order to keep it there, was fastened by a hasp, and further protected by an immense padlock. ‘What do you do here?’ demanded the young lady, moving to meet him. 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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