Then her head disappeared suddenly in her hands, and her shoulders shook violently. 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. Michelle moaned and Lucy, unable to help herself, stroked her hair. . And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me.
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