F. But here the resemblance stopped. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. A short flight of steps brought him to a dark passage, into which he plunged. "'You've a long journey before you. “How can you know?” “I think—perhaps I am rather a cold-blooded person. ’ ‘You may not get the chance. Wood's reply, if he intended any, was cut short by a loud knocking at the door. Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them.
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