The thought caused him an odd kind of pang—of pity, naturally. ‘Jacques?’ ‘No. get in. ‘To see Charvill. It was instantly burst open, when the horrible stench that issued from it convinced them that it must be a receptacle for the murdered victims of the thief-taker. Got the day off. Then she threw the volume away with a little impatient exclamation. She had to resist an impulse of sheer terror, to run out after them and give in. She raided their settlements in shifts, staggering her kills from tribe to tribe, undiscriminating of their petty politics. It was not in evidence here, not a sign of it. 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.
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