Now, however, as Gerald watched them, their heads were together and they were murmuring in French. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. Adieu! my charmer. ‘A man who is false, who steals papers, who has a plot to take another’s name, who lies to the Mother Abbess and to me, and above all this—’ her voice near to breaking ‘—one who is French.
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