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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 lad looked alarmed. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. ‘Still more would I be so if he had come himself to tell me this. " "I will die first," replied Mrs.
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This video was uploaded to adiszena.com on 23-09-2024 15:00:42
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