And, to show you that I have no intention of flying, I will myself close and lock the door. A sound sleeper, she was not roused by the creaky openings and closings of drawers as Lucy packed a single duffle bag with underwear and soap that was pilfered from a multipack of Zest in the Beck’s downstairs bathroom. But I was sorry for poor Jack—as I am still, and hoped he would mend. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire.
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