1. She let go of him and stood up, straightening herself. “Uh, I think I might, Shari. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her.
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