She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. "If you doubt my word, woman," replied the carpenter's wife, coldly, "ask Mr. A riding-habit is all I have seen. You're always complaining that you can't keep anybody more than three months. 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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