“It is the same man, Annabel,” she said. It is good sometimes to walk with a man who can look God squarely in the face, as you can. Books! She knew now what had saved her—her mother's hand, reaching down from heaven, had set the giver's flaming eyes upon the covers of these books. Wood, furiously. Her faith in human beings revived. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. The gentleman catched him i' th' fact, and we shut him up for safety i' that pris'n.
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