“I don’t think she will,” she said. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun. . ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. He took her there on the cold, dirty floor, his nails digging into her back, his teeth sinking into her breasts. Who could guarantee a safer existence outside Florence? That Sebastian seemed to have a weird immunity to the Pestilence was a trait that went unquestioned, unanswered. The villagers were thronging to church.
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