’ A sudden clatter of booted feet sounded in the hall beyond. 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. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. "All's over," muttered Jonathan. I didn't mean it.
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