On the Day he had trumpet-like outbreaks of cordiality, varied by a watchful preoccupation. Then his tiny bow mouth opened into an adoring smile. "Another moment, and it'll be too late. That is I saw her. The idiots are marching through the streets in processions from town to town, whipping their own backs until they are covered in blood, spreading the bloody Pestilence wherever they go! The dead pile in the streets like timber. So was I, in fact.
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