"Aren't you afraid?" "Of what?"—serenely. The door leaned inward. “Don’t be childish, Annabel. You have the look in your eyes to-night which you had that day, the look of a frightened child. 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. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.
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