Gerald sighed. CHAPTER XXVI. 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. “The first is to discover what she is here for, and where she is staying. I even offered him back the half interest he had sold to me. She tiptoed into the entryway where some decorator had placed a live orchid upon a glassy ebony table.
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