The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. ‘It—it is—nothing,’ she uttered jerkily. Single pearls— Lord knows where they come from!—are always turning up, some of them of fine lustre; but I never set eyes on them.
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