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“The little English girl is very fortunate. It's too hard. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. You fooled me this morning; but I overheard two old maids talking about you and the young man. Those who had seen him slumbering, averred that he slept with his eyes open. I do not love any one. Kneebone, who began to feel sleepy, wound it up, and snuffed the candles.
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