He grasped Lucilla’s elbow. ” Her reverie broke, and she found herself still in front of the looking glass, a barrette hanging loosely from her hair. ‘But that will do for a start. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. " Hastening from this heart-rending spectacle, Jack soon reached the grating that divided the men's compartment from that appropriated to the women. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey.
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