” She shook her head. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. 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. Every one else does. Only sat, staring at him, a puzzled look in her face.
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