’ She spread her hands. From the portals of the hotel—scarcely fifty yards from the canal—one saw the blank face of the ancient city of Canton. Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. She traveled through back yards and quiet side streets on her way home, careful to avoid the main thoroughfares, fraught as they were with people in cars who would recognize her person or notice her dress.
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