” She said. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. Nothing to do; nothing for the hands, the mind, the heart. You go to your room and ring for your maid. “Do you think it is fair of you to persecute me just now?” “It is not persecution, Anna,” he answered gently. ‘Never mind that now.
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