‘Then he went stark staring crazy, if you ask me. 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. But his grief was of short duration. "What did you ring for, Sir?" she asked, eyeing the group with astonishment.
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