Cocked hats and buckled swords spoke of rank. ’ ‘Oh yes, yes. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set. What had happened to it? She had broken it, certainly. They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying.
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