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. Don’t leave me in this beastly thing. ‘Lord, no! I’ve a better regard for my skin, I thank you. After he was gone in the morning, Ruth would steal into the study and hurriedly read what he had written the previous night. " She had brought home a puppy one day.
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