To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. 59 He was not present during the night the next morning, or the next, or the next. "My good friend, Owen Wood,—Heaven preserve him!—is still living. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. ” “It’s a very good image,” said Ann Veronica.
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