But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. For Melusine was on him again, the point of her sword lunging so that he backed up onto the dais. But here I am to draw upon. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. I have always been lonely.
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