"Fear!" echoed Wild, in a terrible tone,—"fear! Repeat that word again, and nothing shall save you. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. They bickered frequently now as Gianfrancesco protested the prices of things like funeral candles and poultices to comfort the dying. Such names shone brightly in the darkness, with black spaces of unilluminated emptiness about them, as stars shine in the night; but now—now it was different; now it was dawn—the real dawn. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication.
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