‘Pitiful. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. ‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence.
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