A man’s children nowadays are not his own. E. ” “That is why they hissed me, then?” “Of course. 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. " "That child may be the means of saving me," muttered the stranger, as if struck by a new idea: "I shall gain time by the expedient.
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