But then, because my papa had no money, you understand, he sent me to a convent. Wood, the carpenter, who formerly resided here, is still living?" "If you feel any anxiety on his account, Sir, I'm happy to be able to relieve it," answered Kneebone, readily. 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. It's exactly like a miniature I have in my pocket.
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