He slid out of her. “You have even her name. ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. “Annabel,” she said slowly, “if I fight this thing out myself, can I trust you that it will not be a vain sacrifice? After what you have said it is useless for us to play with words. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day.
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