" "I declare I don't know what to do," said Wood, burned by conflicting emotions. I can’t help it. "I haven't offended you?"—not contritely but curiously. ’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. It mattered not whether she flunked the year as she would soon be gone. He poured a pinch of tobacco into his palm and sniffed. She would ignore him. . The brown house, almost exactly the same as the Beck’s, turned black as pitch in the gloom. 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. All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out.
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