“Much better. “Please forgive me—for one moment,” she sobbed. In fact, Gerald had given order to the coachman to drive out of Golden Square and then stop around the corner. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. There was nothing in his manner to suggest the misery of the preceding night. With a small saw, conveyed to me a few days since by Thames Darrell, which I contrived to conceal upon my person, I removed a spike in the hatch, and, with the aid of some other friends, worked my way out. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. Nothing more forlorn could be conceived. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee.
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