Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. "I haven't worn anything else in weeks. They incubate and grow at phenomenal speed, their hunger is tenthousand times what our greatest hunger could ever be. Somebody ought to talk to him, warn him. Now the pig knew where to find her—for it would not take long for a Catholic to locate the convent in Golden Square—even if she escaped him here. What befell Jack Sheppard in the Turner's House.
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