More than half the city perished. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. ‘Yes, do,’ approved Lucilla. The voices went into his ears but left no impression of their import. He saw the girl, and sprang up in bed. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell.
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