” “I thought I was old enough,” she gasped, between laughter and crying. As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. " The stranger said nothing, but hastily brushed away a tear. " "That's easily said.
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