He returned to attend the funeral. Posts were offered to all who chose to accept them. The winter of 1348 seemed to last an eternity, but the Pestilence struck in one day. We'll have him yet. He had not remembered her as looking so small. She ran away after she had divined that Gianfrancesco had remarried. His kisses drew deeper, he started unlacing her dress. Maternal relations. Dear me, what a difference it has made! No one would ever think that we were sisters. He had been dreaming of Ruth—an old recurrency of that dream he had had in Canton, of Ruth leading him to the top of the mountain.
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