’ She sighed relief to see a faint grin as he ventured to raise his head. “Not to-night,” she said. 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. It never seems to enter their heads to try and amuse their menkind.
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