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The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. ‘You mean that his missus is pretending to be my mistress? Lord-a-mercy!’ ‘Precisely. Her hair was washed for her also. He dug about in his mind for a term to fit her, and he came upon the word new. “I expected you this morning,” he said. But I’m going to-day. He reached for her chin and lifted it up.
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