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The watcher's intake of breath was sibilant. I know there’s a sort of right in your impatience at the slowness of Progress. A sob was strangled in her throat. ” Capes suddenly abandoned his attitude of meditative restraint. ‘Who the devil is Leonardo?’ demanded Roding impatiently, asking the question that had leapt into the major’s mind. “I am sorry,” he said slowly. And when you reflect how much at heart your poor mother, whose loss we must ever deplore, had our union, you will, I am persuaded, no longer refuse me. At the recollection that it was his, she seemed to fall through a thin surface, as one might fall through the crust of a lava into glowing depths. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire.
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