Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. “No, don’t interrupt me. ” The cabman, knocking with the butt end of his whip upon the window, reminded her that he was in a similar predicament. ” “You are very kind,” Anna said. ” “But there is something more. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. The entire city seemed to exist for beauty and art alone. Gerald frowned. Sailors would leave them at the trader's.
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